


In The Summertime

by ChillieBean



Series: In The Summertime [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Drinking, Excessive use of Australian slang, Explicit Sexual Content, Genji Shimada is a Little Shit, Gratuitous Smut, Hanzo Shimada knows what he wants, Happy Ending, Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes is a Little Shit, Lifeguard!Junkrat, Lifeguard!McCree, Light Angst, M/M, Platonic HighBoom, Swearing, Switching, Young Genji Shimada, Young Hanzo Shimada, Young Jesse McCree, heavy use of obscure Australian pop culture references, it's essentially a multi-chapter pwp, lifeguard AU, porn with very loose plot, young mchanzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-04-30 04:06:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 42,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14488437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillieBean/pseuds/ChillieBean
Summary: Halfway around the world, Jesse starts a new lifeguard gig at Bondi Beach, Australia. A destination on his bucket list, he was expecting rescues, keeping people safe, laughing and joking with the locals.He wasnotexpecting Hanzo Shimada.





	1. Eye Contact

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to In The Summertime!
> 
> Okay! So, first off, this tag list is pretty tame compared to the fic itself. It's pretty much tagged for the entire fic, but there's a lot that happens, a lot of kinks and sex (wasn't lying about it being a multi-chapter pwp) so best prepare yourselves! I can tag for the kinks, or write them in the notes if you want, just let me know!! As always, constructive criticism welcome!
> 
> Having said all that, if you're looking for something serious, then this fic isn’t for you. It was summer here when I started writing this, this fic was inspired by Beachrat and the thought of Jesse and Junkrat being lifeguard buddies before it turned into a fully fledged McHanzo fic instead. I want to make it abundantly clear that this is not meant to be taken seriously, I merely needed to get this silly idea out of my head. 
> 
> But if you’re up for some silly shenanigans, then by all means, continue on!
> 
> I drew heavy inspiration from the TV show, [Bondi Rescue](https://tenplay.com.au/channel-ten/bondi-rescue) and the title of the fic is inspired by the theme song of the show, which is also an all-round great Aussie song, [In The Summertime by Thirsty Merc](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6H5we9iNGIA).
> 
> As always, the biggest of thanks goes to Magisey for betaing. This fic would not nearly be as great as it is without their input. One of Magisey's roles is to catch my Aussie slang, and hoo boy there have been some pearlers I didn't realise I was using in my other fics which got caught. I can't tell you how happy I am that I get to write without looking up a phrase, word or brand to check if there's an American equivalent. Having said that, yes, we're only one chapter in and Magisey did pick up on a bit of Aussie slang that Jesse shouldn't have used :'D
> 
> I'll be updating this at the same time every week, but in the meantime, enjoy!!

Jesse’s leg bounces up and down restlessly, watching the man sitting opposite him go over his credentials. He was told he had the job, to show up at the beach at the ungodly hour of six in the morning to help set up and be shown the ropes.

So far, he has spent the first two hours of his time at Bondi Beach in the lifeguard tower. He watched the other lifeguards set up the red and yellow flags to indicate a safe, albeit narrow, swimming area, watched as they patrolled the one kilometre stretch of beach on buggies and he even watched a rescue; all from the annoying comfort of the tower.

Working a beach ain't new for him. He’s spent the last five years working as a lifeguard; three of those working part-time at La Jolla Cove in California and two years full time at Rosarito Beach in Baja, Mexico. Deciding it was time for something new, and with some gentle encouragement from his mamá, he took the plunge and moved to Sydney, Australia; Bondi Beach is somewhere he had wanted to work when he first started lifeguard training all those years ago.

Getting here was no easy feat, though. He had to retake the defibrillator and necksafe courses, get a new first aid and advanced resuscitation certificates, take a semester of marine biology to handle Australia’s colourful wildlife and study Australian sports and recreation before he could even apply for the job. 

The good thing about this coursework was that he could study at home. Making the one way trip to Australia just two weeks ago, the only bit of coursework he had to do down here was obtain a personal watercraft licence so he could use the jet ski when appropriate, and he’s currently in the process of getting an Australian driver's license. Considering he has a Mexican license, he can drive the dune buggy as long as someone is with him. 

Then there was the physical fitness test on the beach which involved a 500 metre ocean swim, 500 metre beach run, 500 metre ocean surf rescue board paddle, and then he had to repeat the course and do it all in under thirty minutes. He completed the course in time and had exerted himself so much that he almost threw up, but the sense of camaraderie he got from the other lifeguards only solidified the feeling that the decision to move here was a good one.

In the two weeks he's been here, he's gotten to know the other lifeguards quite well. When not adjusting to the new time zone and getting over his jetlag, he’s been exploring Sydney and volunteering his time at the beach; just itching to actually start. They’re all friendly and Jesse gets along well with all of them. 

Except one. Not that Jesse doesn't like him, it's just that this lifeguard, the second in charge, has been on leave for the last four weeks and Jesse's been assigned to him. He doesn't know much about him; the other lifeguards simply referred to him as ‘J-man’ and mentioned on  _ several _ occasions that he's quirky, but they also said that he does his job well. 

And looking at the man now… quirky is an appropriate word. 

J-man hums and interlocks his fingers, resting his hands under his chin.  After the official welcome with the big boss Roadie, J-man has spent the last two hours buried in that damned holographic display of Jesse's resume. He didn't even bother to actually introduce himself, he has barely said two words, walks in and out as he pleases and assists with the lifeguards on patrol when required.

He’s a squirrely man, tall and thin, has random tan lines which criss-cross his chest despite the fact he keeps sunscreen on his belt. His uneven platinum blonde hair is tied up in a short, high ponytail, his sunglasses sit atop his visor, he has black nail polish on his fingers and a monochromatic skull and crossbones tattoo on his right arm.

Peculiar, eclectic and plain ol’ weird also fit the bill to describe the man.

Being stuck in this room with him makes Jesse unnecessarily nervous, actually; like he’s in an interrogation room and the lifeguard sitting in front of him is playing bad cop. And with that, J-man stands up and leaves the room again.

Jesse sighs, turning in his seat to look at the sliver of beach he can see from the small office. It’s starting to fill up now. Even for a relatively mild day, a predicted top of only twenty-four degrees Celcius, there has to be at least five hundred people out there already.

“So! I like what I see,”  J-man says, his thick Australian accent shining through. Jesse turns to face him, finding a paper wrapped  _ something _ in the lifeguard’s extended hand. “Icy pole?”

Jesse looks at the wrapped item, taking it from him cautiously. He watches as J-man unwraps his own, revealing a green popsicle. Smile teasing his lips, Jesse unwraps the plain white paper from his; the red treat is already starting to melt. He licks the drips away before taking a large bite out of it.

“Roadie’s seriously impressed with your skills,” J-man continues, looking at the resume and flicking his hand upwards, causing it to scroll up to the top. “He assigned me to you, and I like what I see.”

“Well that’s good,” Jesse replies, somewhat relieved that he has this lifeguard’s approval.

J-man looks at him, eyebrows raised before turning his attention back to the resume. “It says you were living  _ and _ working in Baja.” He looks Jesse up and down. “ _ That  _ is an American accent.”

Realising those were the first words he’s said to the man, Jesse drawls, “Spent the first eighteen years of my life in the States. Santa Fe, born and raised.”

The man smiles wide, clicking his fingers. “Cowboy!”

Jesse chuckles awkwardly; it is not the first time he has been called ‘cowboy’ since he’s been here thanks to his Southern drawl. While it was flattering at first, it’s wearing a mite thin now.

“Hey, Roadie!” J-man calls, one hand cupped to his mouth. He waits, practically bouncing in his seat until the door opens and the large man pokes his head through. “This one: ‘Cowboy’.” Roadie laughs, giving a thumbs up before closing the door. Jesse looks back at J-man. “We use nicknames here. Roadie’s real name is Mako, mine’s Jamie. Though I go by Junkrat.”

Jesse smirks, and is not one bit surprised by  _ that _ name. Though now he wonders why no one else calls him Junkrat. “Well that seems unusual.”

“I like to peruse the scrapyards in my spare time,” Junkrat says, leaning back in his chair and resting his bare feet on the table; crossing them at the ankles. He takes a large bite of his popsicle, the green colouring stains his lips. “Tinker around and build things, metal sculptures and whatnot.”

“So is that one of yours?” Jesse asks, pointing to the yellow ducky inflatable ring hanging on the wall behind him. It has blades in the middle, and looks like it could take off on its own if powered up.

Looking over his shoulder, Junkrat laughs and looks back at Jesse, the biggest grin on his face. “Sure is! It's my  _ finest  _ masterpiece! Made from the inflatable ducky, lawn mower blades, petrol run whipper snipper engine attached to the side.”

Jesse just blinks at Junkrat. “Why?”

“Why not?” Junkrat shrugs. “I'd give you a demo but Roadie’d probably kill me. He reckons it was the reason he had that spike in his blood pressure!”

Jesse watches on utterly speechless as Junkrat looks at the ducky with the same sort of look a proud father would give his child. Now armed with this information, Jesse can totally see the man sitting in front of him rummaging through piles of scrap metal. It matches the scars Jesse’s managed to spot on his arms and back. He then notices the knee-high tan lines on his legs, now that his shorts have ridden up, and the long, pale scar just above his right knee. 

Despite being quite thin he is muscular, but is totally not Jesse’s type; the weird personality and hair is off-putting. Jesse frowns _,_ it's not like he can't speak for himself, running his fingers through his dyed blonde locks. His final night in Baja was spent with his lifeguard buddies, getting drunk and having fun. It left him with the new hair colour, something he's finally used to. Though he's now unsure if he'll let it grow out—as nasty as that'll be—or whether he should just dye it back to brown and be done with it. 

Jesse focuses on the uneven ends of Junkrat's hair, and notices they’re possibly singed? Junkrat clearly doesn't look after himself and why can't he keep still? He's tapping his finger on the stick of his popsicle to some tuneless beat, flicking a pen in his other hand while bouncing his foot. Yeah, he is definitely not Jesse's type. Those muscles though… Jesse shakes his head. He needs to stop checking out every person he comes across.

Finishing the last of his popsicle, Junkrat sits up, feet falling to the ground as he tosses the stick in the trash from across the room and scores. He punches the air and giggles before standing up and clapping his hands together. “So! Welcome aboard.” He extends his hand and Jesse places his stick between his lips as he shakes his hand.

“Thanks for havin’ me.”

“Unfortunately we don’t have any blue boardies in your size to match ours and the order won’t be coming in ‘til next week, but since yours say ‘guard’ on ‘em, I’m sure people will get the idea.”

“Yep, should be fine.”

“And up to you, I can give you a blue rashie to wear now. Got plenty of ‘em in your size.”

Jesse nods slowly, racking his brain for what that could mean. If there’s one thing he’s learning about the Aussies, it’s their need to abbreviate almost every word. He’s just talked about board shorts, so a rashie would be... a rash guard! “It's fine. I tend to just take it off in the case of a rescue and since it's warm, shirtless is fine.”

“No worries!” Junkrat exclaims, clapping his hand on Jesse's back. “Good to finally have someone else who doesn't mind going topless!”

Jesse chuckles; it's certainly going to take some time to get used to the finer points of the Australian language.

“Also, here you go!” Junkrat says, plopping a hat down on Jesse’s head. Jesse picks it up and rolls his eyes at the wide-brimmed, frayed straw monstrosity.

“Really?” he asks, deadpan, turning it over in his hands.

“All the newbies wear this on their first day. Think of it as an initiation ritual.”

“Uh-huh,” Jesse replies unconvinced, giving the hat a final once over before placing it back down on his head. He picks his sunglasses off the table and slides them on the brim of the hat.

“We also don’t get very many yanks work our good beach outside of the exchange program,” Junkrat continues, opening the door. “Somethin’ about the coursework being ‘too bothersome’,” he air quotes.

“Yeah, there was a lot of it,” Jesse chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “But it’s been a dream of mine for a while now so I was determined.”

“Good onya!” Junkrat leads Jesse onto the beach. “So while the rest of the blokes handle the big stuff, you’re with me on this stunning day,” he beams, extending his arms out beside him. “We’ll patrol the beach on foot and keep an eye on the crowds and those knee deep. Believe it or not, theft is a massive thing, and while we can’t intervene, we do have to take notes for the coppers. Sometimes there’ll be fights between crowds, and we have to actually call the coppers in that instance.”

“Yeah, had to do the same in the States and at Baja,” Jesse nods as he follows beside Junkrat, down the stairs of the tower and onto the white sand. He can feel the morning sun bear down, feeling much warmer than it actually is.Looking up at the blue, cloudless sky, he says, “Warm day.”

“Sunscreen?” Junkrat asks, pulling the bottle from his belt. 

“Ah…” Jesse eyes the bottle, noticing the label is pretty faded, and honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if it’s out of date. “I’ve got some on. Might put more on later.”

“Okay,” Junkrat says, clipping the sunscreen back on his belt. “Just remember to reapply. The sun’s  _ terrible  _ for your skin.” He opens a small pouch on his belt, pulling out a stick of zinc and applying the white paste to his nose. He shoves it back into the pocket before lowering his sunglasses onto his face. “And fair warning; the Australian sun is a bitch! Oh, unless you want an ugly tan line, you might wanna take your thongs off too.”

Jesse blinks at him. “Come again?”

Junkrat points to Jesse's feet. “Thongs. Jandals. Flip flops. What you’re wearing.”

“Right,” Jesse breathes. That makes total sense, considering he’s wearing nothing under his boardshorts.  _ Thongs _ : another word he can add to his steadily growing Australian slang dictionary. He chuckles as he kicks them off and wonders what Australians actually call the undergarment if not a thong. Picking them up, he jogs to the garage of the tower, placing them in his locker. 

“It makes walking the beach easier too,” Junkrat says as he returns. “In the height of summer, we can have forty thousand people visit in a single day, resulting in one- to two-hundred rescues per day.”

Jesse looks at him stunned, before gazing down the stretch of beach. “That… is a lot of people.”

“Yep. Those days are full on, there’s just so much happening and we’re always on our toes,” Junkrat sighs. “But thankfully, today being a mild summer day, and a Sunday at that, it should be pretty chill.”

“On quiet days,” Jesse says, walking in step with Junkrat, “one of my favourite things when I was patrolling Baja was chatting with folks. Kids especially, young surfers and the like.”

“Yeah, talking to the grommets and nippers make this job easier. That and perving on the sheilas, especially when they get playful when the camera crews are around,” Junkrat chuckles. When Jesse hums, ready to ask what the hell  _ those _ words mean, Junkrat adds quickly, “Or the blokes,” he presses a hand to his chest, “no judgement here.”

“I was  _ actually _ going to ask you about your slang,” Jesse states. “You can tell me all you want that you Aussies speak English but I swear half the stuff comin’ out of your mouth is another language.”

Junkrat laughs, clapping Jesse on the back. “Oh, I like you, Cowboy. So, grommets are kid surfers, generally ones who are pretty new to it. Nippers are kid lifeguards. Sheilas are the ladies.”

“That one I assumed,” Jesse smirks. “I know the word bloke refers to men.”

“Well if any more trip you up, let me know, hey? Last thing we need is a communication breakdown cause I’m speaking ‘Australian’,” Junkrat air quotes.

“Sure thing, boss,” Jesse says, nodding. He looks out to the beach, following the waves as they gently crash onto the shore. “So I had to take a marine biology course, do you get many animal attacks here?”

“Mostly bluebottles and sea urchins,” Junkrat says, looking out to the ocean. “Get the occasional shark, mostly grey nurses but sometimes great whites. In any case of a shark sighting, we have to sound the alarm and close the beach, but sightings past the buoys are pretty rare.”

Jesse nods, calling back to his lifeguard training. Bluebottle jellyfish are absolutely common on Australian beaches, same with sea urchins, and grey nurse sharks are mostly harmless unless provoked. Great whites though, those are very dangerous and a shark he used to keep an eye out for back at La Jolla and Rosarito. Not that he ever saw one, but studying Australian marine life, he's discovered great white attacks are somewhat common. ‘Cause Australia needs  _ more _ deadly animals to contend with.

“But most of all, this job is all about keeping an eye on the tourists,” Junkrat continues. “You can pick the ones who haven’t seen a beach before, they tend to hop in the water outside the flags. Language barriers are a massive problem, but we’ve got translators on staff for the big ones: Mandarin, German, Hindi and such. Other than that, there’s generally someone around who can act as translator in an emergency.”

“Yep, I’ve dealt with my fair share of folks who don’t pay attention to the flags, I know what I’m lookin’ out for.”

Junkrat laughs, clapping Jesse on the back again. “I forget you’ve had training before. Sorry, mate, this next week’s probably gonna be boring as fuck, but we take our jobs seriously.”

“No need to apologise, I get it.”

“Good stuff,” Junkrat says as they approach the rocks. “So this area’s called ‘Backpacker’s Rip’ and it’s fucking dangerous ‘cause it contains the main channel which draws water from the shore back to sea. It looks calm, but it doesn’t stop—Hey! Stop!” Junkrat runs over to the man about to enter the water. “Stop! Between the flags only!” he yells, pointing to the red and yellow flags in the distance, then at the large, yellow sign set up barely five feet away reading ‘No swimming, dangerous currents’ in large, red letters. “Dangerous. Understand?” 

The man just looks at him dumbfounded. Hot, young and muscular, he’s dressed in a short lime-green sarong and has oversized sunglasses on his face. His hair is tied up loosely in a low bun, he has a large tattoo of a green dragon that covers most of is back. Given how parts of it are not coloured, it almost looks half complete. 

With a nod, the man in green steps out of the water and heads back to his towel, and that’s when Jesse notices the most beautiful thing he’s seen: Another man, sunbathing and lying on his stomach. His long hair down and twirled off to the side, head resting on forearms and showing off those thick biceps; one of which is tattooed. His broad shoulders lead into a narrow waist, and the  _ only  _ thing he’s wearing is the smallest blue thong. Jesse pulls the popsicle stick from his mouth before it drops, gaping at those cut asscheeks. 

The man in the blue thong pulls his head up, eyes hidden behind just as large sunglasses and looks at the other man as he returns. They have a conversation and from the few syllables Jesse can hear, it's not English. He watches them for a moment before his gaze shifts back to blue thong's ass. A part of him hopes they’re not a couple, only because Jesse wants to tap  _ that _ ass.

“See, like that,” Junkrat says as he approaches, gesturing back to the ocean with his thumb. “The water looks calm and inviting, they hop in but they don’t understand that’s when it’s most dangerous.” He glances at the man before continuing their patrol. “Yeah, most of our job is yelling at the tourists.”

“Uh-huh,” Jesse says absently, keeping an eye on the man in green as he looks at Jesse before running into the water. “He’s doin’ it again.”

“Huh?” Junkrat looks at Jesse before following his gaze. “Fuckin’ dipstick…” he mutters before yelling, “What did I just say?!” Junkrat storms towards the man, who stops at knee height in the water, extending his arms by his sides like he’s challenging Junkrat. “Dangerous!” Junkrat yells on his final approach, pointing to the water. “Death!”

This prompts the man in the blue thong to look over his shoulder, quickly standing up and holy  _ fuck _ that has to be the smallest thong Jesse’s seen anyone wear, barely keeping his goods contained. Not a single patch of body hair on him either, long black flowing locks almost down to his hips  _ and _ the tattoo that covers his entire left arm and sprawls onto his chest. His entire body  _ glistens _ in the sunlight from whatever oil he’s got on his skin, catching every rise and dip of his abs. Fuck, this man is the definition of abso-fucking-lute perfection. 

Jesse shakes his head, drawn from his lusty thoughts as blue thong approaches Junkrat, and not wanting to be on the sidelines, Jesse places the stick back in his mouth and jogs over.

“I apologise, my brother likes to challenge authority,” blue thong says calmly as he grabs the man in green by the elbow. He turns to him, condescension dripping on every word as he says, “Genji, how many times do I have to tell you, swim between the flags.”

“But that’s where all the plebs are,” green sarong retorts like an absolute brat.

“That’s where all the smart people are,” Jesse says quickly, pulling the stick from his mouth and gesturing back with it. “The folks who like obeying the rules, who don’t like to cause trouble.” Jesse looks between them, glancing at their belongings before continuing, “You two are young and I can’t see any parents here supervising. You also seem smart, so why don’t you make our lives easier and just swim between the flags.” He looks at green sarong, saying, “Or sunbathe, like your brother here.” Jesse glances at blue thong, taking all his willpower not to look down at his nethers.

As if on cue, at exactly the same time, the both of them reach up with their right hands and lower their sunglasses just enough to give Jesse a good look down. From what Jesse can see from the identical eyebrows and shape of their eyes and noses, they are most definitely brothers. When blue thong says something in their native tongue, a single two-syllable Japanese word Jesse guess, green sarong pulls his glasses up and shrugs. Blue thong lets his eyes linger, and just for a split second Jesse gives into temptation and looks the man up and down, eyes lingering on his crotch. Fuck, it’s taking more effort than usual to stop fantasising about hooking his fingers into that thin waistband and sliding the thong down.

“Our apologies,” blue thong says eventually, putting his sunglasses back on. “We will ensure to swim between the flags. We appreciate the risks you take and it will not happen again.”

Junkrat huffs. “See that it doesn’t,” he says, tone short before taking a step back. 

Both men leave the water and Jesse stands next to Junkrat, watching as the men approach their towels. Blue thong bends over before he lies down, glancing over his shoulder and Jesse swears  _ that _ was intentional. 

“Much as it’ll suck,” Junkrat sighs, “I think we’ll need to keep an eye on those two.” He pulls his glasses down, looking at the both of them before sliding them back on. “View’s not even that great. Sorry, mate.”

Jesse smirks, staring at blue thong’s ass. “Oh, I think I’ll manage.”


	2. Electric Touches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that Junkrat is in fact 25 years old, and I did not change his age in this fic.

“Right, now chuck a uey, and head back the way we came.”

“You’re doin’ it again.”

“What’s that?”

“‘Cha-cka-u-ey,’” Jesse says with his best Australian accent. “That ain’t English, I’m certain.”

Junkrat clears his throat. “Well howdy partner! I’m needin’ you to perform a u-turn just up here if you’d please,” he says with the worst American accent Jesse thinks he’s ever heard and can’t contain his laughter.

“You know we don’t speak like that either.”

“Whatever,” Junkrat blows off with the wave of his hand. “Chuck a uey already.”

Jesse chuckles, performing the u-turn and driving the buggy back to the lifeguard tower. Now afternoon, the sun is well and truly beating down, patchy clouds drift lazily overhead. The crowd has ballooned to over a thousand, and Jesse was quite surprised at the number of people who required rescue, even between the flags. It seemed he had underestimated the harshness of these Australian currents.

While he hasn’t performed a rescue himself yet, the day has been somewhat entertaining. After watching blue thong for a few minutes, they left the brothers in peace once green sarong slathered himself in coconut oil and sunbathed in an equally small black thong. Continuing their patrol, Jesse got the opportunity to talk to a few of the surfers who offered tips on how to handle the Australian surf, he tended to a small child who fell off the rocks at Flat Rock and grazed her knee, and talked with a nice American family from Wyoming for a long while when they heard his accent. That drew in a rowdy crowd of women celebrating a ‘hen’s’, or in his case a bachelorette party—another Australian word he can add to his vocabulary—who wanted photos with the ‘sexy American lifeguard’. When he was finally free of their lingering touches, he had a quick lunch break in the lifeguard tower and chatted to a few of the other guards, and then hopped in the buggy for this driving lesson.

“Well, would you look at that?!” Junkrat exclaims, looking off into the distance. “Seems our tourists are back for more sunbaking,” he says, amusement carrying on his voice. Jesse looks around, spotting the two hot guys from earlier walking to the exact same spot they were at in the morning. Junkrat looks at Jesse with a smirk, saying, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking, B1?”

Jesse opens his mouth to speak, looks at Junkrat in absolute bewilderment wondering what the hell a ‘B1’ is. The buggy slows, and after Jesse realises he’s lifted his foot off the pedal, he merely asks, “Go back for another patrol?”

“Well, yes, but you’re not supposed to say that!” Junkrat sputters.

“What am I supposed to say?” Jesse asks, amused.

“You’re supposed to follow it up with, ‘I think I am, B2!’, then at the same time we’re supposed to say, ‘It’s patrolling time!’,” Junkrat explains, disappointment carrying in his tone as he folds his arms across his chest.

“Oh.” Jesse casts his eyes back to the lifeguard tower, presses his foot to the pedal again. “Okay, ‘I think I am—”

“Nah, it’s too late, mate, it’s ruined,” Junkrat says, defeated. He sighs heavily before he instantly perks up again, saying, “All right! Let’s park this baby and patrol that end of the beach. There’s enough people there to warrant it.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jesse breathes, trying not to sound too delighted at staring at blue thong’s ass all afternoon. “So what’s that from? B1 and B2?”

“Kids show: Bananas in Pyjamas. Go up to any Aussie and ask, ‘are you thinking what I’m thinking, B1?’ and I’ll guarantee they’ll answer with, ‘I think I am, B2’.”

“All right,” Jesse says, sideways glancing at Junkrat, “next time you ask that, I’ll make sure to properly answer.”

Junkrat cheers and claps his hands, practically bouncing in his seat and apparently delighted at the prospect of playing this little game. Jesse smirks and slowly shakes his head. For someone five years older than him, he  _ behaves  _ like a five-year-old. 

The drive to the lifeguard tower is quick, and the walk back to the rocky part of the beach is equally quick. Jesse likes to think he wasn’t too eager, but who knows? He caught himself being mindful of his quick steps in any case.

Eyes on blue thong, Jesse watches as he unties the sarong hanging low on his hips. It takes all of Jesse’s willpower not to grin at the sight of the man in his tiny thong, and it takes about as much willpower to tear his eyes away when green sarong points and waves at Jesse.

“Seems you’ve got fans,” Junkrat says, elbowing Jesse in the arm. 

Jesse chuckles, looking at the people he passes by for distraction. Mostly families, Jesse listens to their accents as they talk, trying to pinpoint where they’re from. One large group has a mix of Swedish and German, perhaps? Lots of kids running around, a couple of teenagers buried in their phones and four middle-aged people trying to contain the madness. Friends on a holiday, it seems.

He glances at the boys, green sarong is  _ still _ waving him down, grinning from ear to ear. Jesse looks back at the ocean, a couple kids are screaming and laughing as they run from the waves crashing on the shore before chasing them back to sea, repeating the game.

Then he hears a sing-songed “Mr Lifeguard,” carry on the gentle breeze. Jesse rolls his eyes, looking at green sarong and of course he's going to be a little shit about this situation. Jesse shakes his head in response, hoping he stands down. 

“Oh, this is gonna be fuckin’ amazing,” Junkrat says quickly, barely containing his excitement as he claps his hands together. “I  _ love  _ it when the tourists get playful with the guards.”

“Can you  _ try _ to be less excited?” Jesse asks, exasperated.

“Nah mate.” Junkrat grins. “Seems the dragons have the hots for you.”

Jesse scoffs. “The dragons?”

“Didn’t notice their tattoos? Come on, surely you nicknamed people while patrolling Rosarita.”

“Well yeah…”

“So what’d you nickname these two if you’re not callin’ ‘em the dragons?”

Jesse can’t contain his smirk, bringing his voice down. “Green sarong and blue thong.”

“Pfffff…” Junkrat devolves into laughter, to the point of actually doubling over and slapping his knee. “Fair dinkum?” He manages to say between giggles. Jesse shrugs, the only thing that seems appropriate to counter  _ that _ bit of unknown Australian slang. It seems to do the trick, as Junkrat continues laughing. “I’m sorry,” he says eventually, taking a deep breath, standing up straight and placing his hands on his hips. “You’re fuckin’ shit at nicknames, mate.”

“It’s not my strong suit, no,” Jesse says flatly, glancing at green sarong who’s  _ still _ trying to flag him down. “You know what, I’ll see what they want, you just… patrol? I’ll be fine for the next little bit on my own. I’ll keep an eye on folks in the ocean and call out of I see anything out of the ordinary.”

“If you say so, but I won’t be too far away.” Junkrat folds his arms across his chest as he takes a step back. “Whatever these two want, I wanna make sure I’m close by to watch it unfold.”

Jesse rolls his eyes and inhales deeply, casting his eyes at the men. Jesse nods to green sarong, and he bounces up and down before crouching down, saying something to blue thong who’s lying on his stomach. It prompts him to look up and pull his sunglasses down for a moment before adjusting them and laying back down.

“Mr Lifeguard,” green sarong sing-songs again as Jesse approaches. “My brother Hanzo wishes to continue sunbathing, but wants me to put on his coconut oil. I want to outsource it to you.”

Jesse scoffs. “I ain’t your personal butler.”

“Pleeeeeeease,” he pleads, shoving the bottle in Jesse’s hands. “He makes me do his back and I hate it.” The little shit then pouts.

While not the first time Jesse's been asked to apply oil or suntan lotion to a person, in every case it’s been a woman, and considering there was no attraction involved it was easy, even when they tried to flirt with him. But this, the very thought of his hands sliding all over the man he could very easily get a hard-on for… this would be something else.  _ Fucking amazing _ , he thinks to himself.

Playing coy as to not seem too desperate, Jesse asks, “So why ask me? There are plenty of other folks who’ll gladly do it.”

Green sarong shifts his weight and crosses his arms over his chest. “Cause you’re  _ clearly  _ into him.”

Jesse inhales sharply, taking in a bit of spit. He coughs and splutters, patting his chest with the flat of his hand. Was he that fucking obvious? “Look... I’m…”

“Just put the oil on,” blue thong says flatly.

Jesse looks between the two brothers. While he’s internally screaming at the thought of running his hands all over blue thong’s body, it technically isn’t his job. He should be focused on everyone else, especially considering this is his first day. Jesse looks over his shoulder to Junkrat, because for whatever reason Jesse thought that he would come and rescue him but instead he extends a hand as if to say, ‘well go on, don’t keep him waiting’, before giving a thumbs up.

With a curt nod, Jesse kneels down beside blue thong, opening the bottle and pouring the liquid onto his back and reserving some for his hands. He rubs them together and holds them above blue thong’s back, hesitating. He huffs, saying, “Look, if I’m gonna do this, I want to at least know your name. Hanzo, you said?”

“That is correct.”

“Right. Nice to meet you, Hanzo. My name’s Jesse.”

“You are not Australian.”

“Nup, first day on the job, actually.” Jesse presses his hands to Hanzo’s back, and he’s seriously muscular. Jesse swallows the lump in his throat, working his hands along Hanzo’s shoulders. “I’m from the States. Spent three years at La Jolla Shores, then another two years at Rosarito beach in Mexico before here. But home was New Mexico.”

“Rosarito?” Hanzo asks, peeking over his shoulder at Jesse. “We were there last year when holidaying in Tijuana.”

“Might’ve seen you,” Jesse breathes, racking his memory for someone fitting Hanzo’s description but then realises that’s pointless because nearly everyone wears a thong down there. He glances at Hanzo’s ass, then shakes his head and focuses on his hands. Knowing he can’t be caught staring, he looks at green sarong. “And what’s your name?”

“Genji.”

“Genji,” Jesse repeats, “nice to meet you.” Losing the battle to sneak a look at Hanzo’s ass again, Jesse realises that talking earlier actually distracted from looking. So talking is what he'll do. “So where are you fellas from, anyway?”

“Japan,” Genji answers absently, distracted in his phone.

“Another place on my bucket list,” Jesse murmurs. Finished with Hanzo’s shoulders, Jesse works his way down to his mid-back. He leans over to rub the oil onto Hanzo’s side and his knees brush against Hanzo’s ribs and hip. “Sorry,” he mumbles, scooting back. 

“You can mount me if that is easier.”

Jesse’s brain stutters, and nothing can stop the image of him on top of Hanzo, pinned against the bed, fucking his brains out. 

_ “I think you broke him,” _ Jesse hears just barely over the sound of skin slapping against skin, moaning and panting and swearing. Fuck, he imagines Hanzo being vocal and cussing like a sailor while being fucked. 

Feeling a sharp pain in his arm, Jesse shakes his head and looks at the finger digging into the muscle, following the arm to Genji, shit eating grin on his face. “Are you with us?”

Jesse inhales sharply and nods, glancing down and is thankful his semi isn’t tenting his shorts.  _ Yet. _ He continues spreading the oil and rubbing it into Hanzo’s skin, working closer and closer to the waistband of that thong. Jesse’s breathing hitches when his fingers run over the two adorable dimples on the small of Hanzo’s back; just when this man couldn’t get more perfect. Tracing the line of Hanzo’s thong with his index finger, he applies the slightest bit of pressure, slipping the barest hint of his finger in the waistband. He bites his lip, resisting the urge to slide his entire finger inside. Hanzo adjusts slightly and Jesse pulls his hands away, thinking he’s gone too far with that action. 

“I was sincere in my offer for you to climb on me if it is easier to apply the oil,” Hanzo says, voice husky as he looks at Jesse over his shoulder.

Knowing he shouldn’t, but acting on pure lust now, Jesse climbs onto the man, sitting on his thighs. With his slow exhale, he drags his hands up Hanzo’s back, applying pressure with his thumbs on either side of his spine, up and up to the nape of his neck. He slides his hands onto Hanzo's shoulders then back up, squeezing his tight traps and digging his thumbs into the muscle. He repeats this over and over, down his shoulders and up his traps, relishing in feeling Hanzo’s insane muscles underneath his fingertips. It takes all of his concentration not to dry hump Hanzo, roll his hips and chase that delicious friction. He bites his lip, using that as his anchor. 

When Hanzo groans, Jesse starts and pulls back, cursing himself for getting carried away.

“I was not expecting a massage too.”

“Sorry,” Jesse breathes, grabbing the bottle as best he can between his slippery fingers and pouring more onto his hands. Rubbing them together, he applies the oil to Hanzo’s arms, squeezing his thick biceps and sliding his hand down to his wrist. He repeats the process with his tattooed arm, and it’s not until Jesse is this close that he can see the intricate detail of the tattoo. He then realises that he’s seen tattoos like this, and he knows Yakuza ink when he sees it. “Nice tattoo you have there,” Jesse says anyway, scolding himself for blurting that out.

Hanzo hums, turning his head and looking at his tattooed shoulder. He brings his arms up underneath himself and Jesse sits back, sliding down to Hanzo’s calves and resting his weight on his knees, about ready to climb of him. Hanzo rests his weight on his elbows and looks over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “You are not finished.”

“Uhhh…” is all Jesse can muster. He looks down at Hanzo’s perfect ass before glancing up. Fuck, he wants nothing more than to squeeze the muscle, but not under these circumstances, not in public  _ while _ he’s working. “I’m sorry, that’s a bit personal for me. And I really should be getting back to work.”

“Nonsense,” Hanzo brushes off. “It is just skin.”

Exhaling slowly and not needing  _ any  _ convincing to do just that, Jesse grabs the bottle of oil, applying more of it to his hands before rubbing them together. He doesn’t dare look at Junkrat. He doesn’t dare look at Genji. He doesn’t dare draw any attention to his erection tenting his shorts and is one hundred percent thankful that from this angle it is in no way obvious. 

Heart racing, he shuffles down and places his hands on Hanzo’s ass. The barest grunt escapes Jesse’s lips as he spreads the oil, keeping in mind not to squeeze, as much as his body is  _ screaming  _ at him to squeeze those cheeks and spread him. Before he gets too carried away, he continues down Hanzo’s thigh and then down his calf, before applying more to his hands, rubbing it into his other leg.

Against his better judgement, he drags his hands back up Hanzo’s thighs, stopping at the curve of his ass. Cock throbbing and fairly certain he’s leaking pre now, he bites his lip, hands slipping up his ass again. He hears Hanzo moan, and Jesse just about comes without touching at that noise. 

Needing an out, something that will drag him away from this slice of heaven, as much as Jesse wants to just pluck the thong from between Hanzo's asscheeks, lube himself up with the oil and fuck him here and now on this beach, his hands settle on Hanzo’s hips as he looks over his shoulder, seeing possibly the worst thing he’s seen in his life but right now is a godsend: a short, stocky middle-aged man with a twin braided beard, wearing nothing but a small red speedo. That about kills Jesse’s arousal in his tracks, freeing him from his lusty stupor. 

He sits up and climbs off Hanzo, sitting on his knees and keeping his hands in his lap in an effort to hide his erection. He keeps the stocky man in his peripheral vision, using it as a means to keep his arousal down. “I think you’re rightly oiled up now,” Jesse says, rubbing the excess oil into his torso one hand at a time before resting them back in his lap.

“Thank you for your assistance,” Hanzo breathes, pulling his glasses off. Dark eyes greet him, so dark Jesse could get lost in them. “When does your shift finish?”

“I’m here ‘til seven p.m.”

“I would like to buy you a drink.”

“Okay,” Jesse breathes.  _ Drinks lead to sex.  _ Cock twitching and exhaling sharply, he glances at the middle-aged man in his peripheral vision, who is drying himself with his towel. 

“We shall wait by the lifeguard tower at seven.”

Jesse notes the too-tight speedo getting lost in the man’s body fat.

“I need to go home and change first, I don’t have my nice clothes on me.” 

The man bends over, his crack pokes over the top of his speedo.

“Where would you like to meet then?”

The man stretches his arms over his head.

“You pick the bar, I’ll meet you there.”

His speedo disappears into the abyss of his ass.

“And your number?”

The man picks his speedo from his asscrack, and _ that i _ s too much for Jesse to handle.

“Uh,” Jesse frowns, looking at Hanzo and repeating the question in his mind. He tells Hanzo his number and Genji inputs it into his phone.

“And I’ve called you so you have Hanzo’s number while we’re here,” Genji says, grinning.

Jesse nods. “Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, the both of you. I’d shake your hand but…” Jesse trails off, extending his oily hand.

“It’s fine,” Genji brushes off, pressing his hands to his chest. “You’ve touched Hanzo’s ass, even if it wasn’t oily I still wouldn’t shake it.”

Hanzo turns to Genji and says something in flying Japanese before turning back around. “I will text you shortly with an address.”

“Not a problem,” Jesse says, tipping his hat. “I’ll see you tonight, then.” Jesse stands, thankful his boner is mostly gone. He looks at Hanzo’s shimmering body and it all but swells again before he turns on his heel.

“And thank you,” Hanzo calls.

“Don't mention it,” Jesse says quickly, approaching the lifeguard tower. He walks fast, knowing this semi could become a fully fledged erection in a split second. He scans the beach and the short man is nowhere to be seen. Shaking his head, he glances at Junkrat as he passes him, pointing a finger and saying, “Not a fucking word,” before storming into the tower and into the bathroom.

Slamming the door behind him and resting against it, he buries his head in his hands. It might be highly inappropriate to jerk off at work on his first day, but  _ that _ heightened state of arousal and the return of his raging boner, there is  _ no way _ that is going down on its own. 

He opens his shorts, taking his throbbing cock in his hand. He tugs fast, thinking about those perfect asscheeks, kissing them, taking that thong between his teeth and peeling it off—  

A ragged breath escapes his lips as he orgasms, catching it in his hands. Barely ten tugs and he’s come undone. At the very least, if things escalate tonight, he won’t finish quickly. 

He hopes, at least. 

Washing his hands in the sink, he looks at his reflection briefly, noticing his flushed cheeks. He splashes his face with water and shakes his head. This man will be the death of him. 

Taking a deep breath now that he no longer looks like a tomato, he leaves the bathroom, heading through the comm room and into the open kitchen. He opens the fridge, grabbing his bottle of water and taking a series of gulps.

“You know oiling tourists isn’t part of the job description, right?” Roadie asks. His voice is softer, gentler than his normal boom.

Jesse’s eyes slide closed. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re not in any trouble.”

Jesse opens his eyes and turns, Roadie is sitting at the table. “They wouldn't take no for an answer. And these two were problem kids, giving Junkrat a bit of grief earlier.”

“We see kids like them all the time. Entitled. Privileged. Think they own the beach,” Roadie says bitterly. “And sometimes it’s easier entertaining them instead of letting it escalate. You’re a nice guy, friendly to everyone you talk to, and people like that prey on that.”

Jesse inhales deeply at the veteran lifeguard’s words. “So you’re sayin’ I’m just some dumb kid?” Jesse grouses, closing the fridge and sitting at the table.

Roadie chuckles. “The opposite, actually. I’ve been doing this job for over twenty years. Seen kids come and go, think they can handle the pressures of rescues, dealing with tourists that don’t listen, people who give them shit and they don’t even last a week. Then, there’s people like you, who go above and beyond to make sure everyone’s okay. You put yourself last.”

“I haven’t even been here a day. I’ve barely done anything.”

“I’ve had twenty people come up to the tower already to tell me about the ‘nice’, ‘charming’, ‘gentle’ American lifeguard. Your bosses and colleagues gave you glowing reviews. You’ve got the chops for this job. You just have to face what comes next.”

Jesse frowns. “What do you mean?”

As if he was waiting for the cue, Junkrat bursts through the door, waving his phone in his hand and the biggest grin on his face. “Oh my fucking God!”

“I beg your pardon?” Jesse asks, looking at the phone.

Junkrat sits down next to Jesse, sliding the phone over. “We keep an eye on the Bondi Beach hashtag on social media—”

_ Oh no. _

“—And it seems you were filmed by… what did you call him? Green sarong?”

_ Fuck. _ “His name is Genji,” Jesse groans, taking Junkrat’s phone. He looks at the still, him on top of Hanzo with the caption ‘Thirsty af lifeguard gives H a massage on the beach’. Jesse reluctantly presses play and there he is, for all the world to see, sitting on top of Hanzo. Jesse watches on in pure bewilderment as his hands trail up his back, the moment he gave Hanzo an unwilling massage—and  _ holy fuck  _ he thought he was just daydreaming the dry humping but there it is, the barest of hip rolls against Hanzo’s ass.

...And Hanzo  _ rolling _ his hips into him when he pulls away.

Jesse slides the phone away and falls to the table, burying his head on folded arms. “I didn’t even know he was filming that.” He then glances up at Roadie. “Is this what you meant by ‘what comes next’?”

Roadie chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest and Jesse shrinks back down, wishing for the table to swallow him whole. “Yep. Not only did we  _ all  _ watch it from the tower the second Junkrat called it in that you had climbed into his lap, but as soon as you walked away it was uploaded onto Instagram. The kid has over five hundred thousand followers, and each and every one of them will be witnessing your antics.”

Jesse groans. “Don’t tell me anymore.”

“Cheer up, mate,” Junkrat says sympathetically, patting his back. “If anything, it’s good publicity. There’ll be a swell of tourists looking for the… ‘thirsty af lifeguard’ to give ‘em a massage for the next little bit, but we can keep you in the tower to overlook operations if it gets too much.”

Jesse huffs, sitting up. “Yeah, I guess. Though I can’t spend my time skulking in here when there’s people out there who need looking after.”

“And that’s what I meant when I said you were a nice guy—”

“A true blue bloke!” Junkrat adds.

“—Because any other person would quit if something like that happened to them. You though, you just wanna head back out there.”

“It’s my job,” Jesse sighs, slumping in his seat. He eyes a sesame seed on the table, pressing his index finger to it and rolling it between his thumb. “I ain’t gonna let some entitled little shit ruin it.”

“There ya go!” Junkrat says, patting his shoulder. He pauses, grinning before asking, “So tell me, have you rubbed one out yet?”

Jesse scoffs, folding his arms across his chest, before placing them in his lap. How does one get defensive without actually revealing what they did? He guesses he wasn't in the bathroom too long, so that works in his favour. Or it could be seen as coming fast and shit, he doesn't want to be known for  _ that _ . Thinking of the perfect excuse, he smirks, saying, “Why would I when Hanzo asked me for a drink after my shift?”

Junkrat laughs, clapping Jesse on the back a few more times. “Seems our lifeguard here isn’t the only one who’s thirsty!”

Jesse smirks, then it falters momentarily, wondering if Hanzo had a boner. What if he didn’t? Well, Hanzo wouldn’t have asked him for a drink if he didn’t like it. The man rolled his ass into him, for fuck’s sake, of course he had a boner. He grins, wondering if Hanzo got up and jerked off too. God, the image of Hanzo masturbating, biting his lip and tugging fast—

Shaking his head and doing his best to ignore those thoughts, he looks at Roadie. “Thanks for the pep talk, boss.”

“Any time. Now, get back out there. I think it’s about time we let you attempt a rescue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bananas in Pyjamas is a kids show down here. I shit you not, they're sentient bananas who live in a town full of animals. They also say the "are you thinking what I'm thinking" line in _every_ episode. [Here's an example!!](https://youtu.be/LdYLeNQV1iU?t=307) Their first iteration were people in suits, which was hella creepy, but now it's (poorly) animated.
> 
> Fair dinkum: Both used as an exclamation of truth, or used as a confirmation of truth. In this instance, it's used in the same context as "Are you serious?"
> 
> I also want to apologise for using Torbjorn in this manner! D:
> 
> So whenever I write a fic featuring Genji, it instantly acquires the "Genji Shimada is a Little Shit" tag. In this fic, Genji sits on the 'extreme' side of the meter. More so a warning for the next chapter, but you have Magisey to thank for that ;-)


	3. Red Hot Kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So at the end of the last chapter, I was going to be a good author and warn about the dangers of excessive sunbaking and talk about sun safety, but [figured I'd let Jesse tell you ;-)](https://chilliebean5.tumblr.com/post/173795417761/do-you-think-jesse-might-give-the-fan-some). This doesn't affect the story going forward, so there's no pressure to read this now, or even ever if you don't want to!
> 
> So! This is the chapter that truly earns the fic its explicit rating. In case it's not everyone's cup of tea, there's public/semi-public encounters. Otherwise, Enjoy!!

Jesse wrings his hands together, waiting outside what has to be the swankiest hotel he’s ever seen. Valet service and a door man with a fucking top hat and a coat with coattails reside at the front of the white rendered building. 

He’s seen luxury cars pull up: Ferraris, Lamborghinis, Porsches. Inside the hotel’s lobby is regal burgundy and gold coloured carpet, the front desk is mahogany wood with black granite tops, a series of large cream coloured leather armchairs and another doorman is stationed at the elevator.

He grumbles as he turns back to the street, imagining that the bathrooms here probably have the fella who gives you soap and offers a hand towel to dry your hands. He’s never seen this level of luxury. He’s never imagined being anywhere  _ near _ this level of luxury, yet, here he is, waiting for Hanzo to take him out for a drink.

Jesse imagines what their home must look like if they can afford a holiday  _ and _ stay at a place as nice as this. Probably a mansion, hired cleaners and cooks. He bets the brothers are spoiled brats who get what they want when they want. They probably don’t even know the definition of the word hardship.

All of this is on the opposite end of the spectrum to Jesse’s life. Born into a hovercycle gang, his parents’ combined income barely saw food on the table. Birthdays and Christmases were lowkey, and Jesse was looking after himself from about six years of age. Not long after his eighth birthday, he escaped the gang with his mamá when his papa was killed by another member. 

After being found by the police, they struck a deal to rat out Deadlock in exchange for immunity and protection. With a simple ‘thanks, now go on your way’, the only form of protection they got was a move from Santa Fe to Albuquerque. His mamá made the decision to forge new names and identities; changing back to her maiden name.

Even now, after all these years, he can hear his mamá’s voice:  _ The less ties we have to our old lives, the better it’ll be _ . 

They remained in Albuquerque until he was fourteen, when it became too dangerous to stay in New Mexico when old members of the gang and their families were showing up dead. With his mamá flat out insisting Jesse get his high school diploma at a minimum, her argument against moving in with family in Mexico, they moved to Southern California; close enough to her family who reside in Baja but still in the States so Jesse could finish school.

Between schoolwork, Jesse worked as a lifeguard at La Jolla on weekends and summer holidays. He wanted to leave school, work more so his mamá didn't have to but she insisted that he have a proper education. She worked sixteen hour days at a shitty diner, barely scraping enough tips to pay rent and utilities for their one bedroom crapshack. By the time he was eighteen, fresh out of school and with rent getting too much, they moved south of the border to Baja, moving in with family.

There, Jesse worked two jobs: Lifeguard by day, bartender by night. Nineteen hour days, getting by on coffee and naps just so his mamá could have a normal life again. She had given him so much, it was his turn to pick up the slack.

When things started to look up and with his mamá’s support, Jesse decided to retrain, getting his qualifications to work in Australia. A year of hard studying, and here he is, at the end of his first day standing outside this hotel, waiting for someone who probably never had to lift a damn finger in his life.

Jesse huffs, kicking at the sidewalk absently and shoving his hands in his trouser pockets. He should be excited by the night awaiting him. He dry humped Hanzo, Hanzo was clearly into it and it’s probably a guarantee that he will get laid tonight. He should be happy, excited, ecstatic by the prospect considering it’s been too damn long since he’s fucked someone. But his brain keeps catching on the fact that his life and Hanzo’s are worlds apart.

“You are early.” 

Jesse turns to face the sound of the voice, seeing an absolutely stunning Hanzo behind him. Dressed in a tight indigo button down, half the buttons are undone and revealing a good chunk of his chest. Pressed black slacks and shiny shoes complete his look. His hair is pulled back and tied up in a top-knot, Jesse meets Hanzo’s gaze and, of course, he’s wearing eyeliner and fuck, this whole look just makes him sexier.

“I like to be punctual,” Jesse shrugs, smiling. “And I gotta say, seein’ you in clothes is pretty hot.”

“The same can be said about you,” Hanzo replies, eyeing Jesse up and down. “You clean up well.”

Jesse rubs the back of his head. “Aww, shucks darlin’—”

“And I am extremely happy to be free from the confines of home as it allows me to do this.” Hanzo takes a step forward, placing a hand on Jesse's chest. He slides it up and curls it around the back of Jesse’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss. Jesse moans softly, melting into it. He places his hands on Hanzo’s waist, drawing him in close so their bodies are pressed together. Wanting nothing more than to feel the slide of Hanzo’s tongue against his, Jesse sweeps his tongue into Hanzo's mouth— 

“Get a room…” Jesse hears right in his ear; Japanese accented words at normal speaking volume. “Fuck!”

When Hanzo pulls away, Jesse sideways glances at Genji, wishing him away for ruining the kiss, before turning his attention to Hanzo as his hands settle on Jesse’s chest. 

“I have been waiting too long to do that,” Hanzo whispers, voice low and husky.

Jesse looks at Hanzo speechless, so he nods instead. He doesn’t want to let him go. He could offer to take Hanzo to his room, fuck him here and now, and Hanzo would probably say yes. But it is only nine p.m., Genji is unfortunately here, and after the day he’s had, he could use a drink. 

“So,” Jesse sighs, “where are we going?”

Hanzo stands to Jesse’s side, arm wrapping around his waist. “A family friend owns a nightclub on Kings Cross. They have a private area which we will be utilising.”

“Sounds good,” Jesse breathes. He might have had reservations of Hanzo’s lavish lifestyle, but being able to experience it for a night is kind of exciting. That is, until a limousine pulls up and Genji climbs into it. Jesse can feel Hanzo pulling on him but he hesitates. “Shit, you got a limo to take us four miles?”

“Did you  _ really  _ expect us to take a taxi?” Genji calls from the car. 

“Well… yeah?”

Genji laughs. He then looks at Hanzo absolutely deadpan as he says, “Hanzo, you have fallen in love with a hobo. I hope you are happy.”

“Hey! I ain’t a hobo. Just used to livin’ a modest lifestyle.” Jesse watches as Hanzo climbs into the car and pats the seat next to him.  _ Once in a lifetime, _ Jesse thinks to himself as he hops in.  

“And what is your modest lifestyle?” Hanzo asks as they drive off.

“Mamá workin’ two jobs to make ends meet. All so I could get a proper education and to make sure my mamá didn’t have to work three… just to put it into perspective.” Silence only greets him. He shouldn't be surprised, how would someone who doesn’t understand the life he’s lived even respond to that. He watches Genji open a compartment in the seat beside him, revealing small bottles of bourbon, champagne and vodka, along with four tumblers. “So how about you two?”

“We work in our father’s business,” Genji answers, opening the bottle of bourbon and giving it a smell. He shrugs, pouring it into a glass. “Want some, hobo?”

Jesse rolls his eyes. “Jesse is fine. And yeah, sure.”

“Hanzo?” Genji asks, glancing at Hanzo.

Hanzo only nods. “I should amend that  _ I _ work in my father’s business. Genji has received a pass and lives off our parents.”

“Not my fault I am still in high school.” Genji hands out the two glasses of bourbon.

“Wait, high school?” Jesse questions, taking the glass. “How old are you two?”

“I am eighteen,” Genji responds, smelling his alcohol before taking a sip. “Fuck that burns!” He groans, coughing before setting his glass down, adding with a slightly raspy voice, “And Hanzo is twenty-one.”

And then the realisation hits Jesse. “You’re here for your eighteenth.”

“Ah, a smart hobo!” Genji says, grinning. “It is the first time we have been allowed to travel without our parents and of course I was going to pick a country where the legal drinking age is eighteen!”

“I think it’s still technically underage drinking,” Jesse teases.

“Then how old are you, hobo? Over twenty-one?”

“Will be in a couple days, actually.”

“Then I think it’s still technically underage drinking,” Genji mocks.

“Drinking age in Mexico is eighteen—” Jesse stops abruptly when he feels Hanzo’s hand on his inner thigh. Jesse looks down at it, then at Hanzo as he slides over. 

“I will be here in a couple of days,” Hanzo says, voice low.

“Will you now?” Jesse asks, grinning. “And how long will you be in Sydney for?”

“Until Wednesday.”

Jesse hums, draping his arm over Hanzo’s shoulders. “Good thing my birthday’s on Tuesday, then.” With his other hand, he traces Hanzo’s jawline with a finger before cupping his chin between thumb and finger. He leans in slowly, his nose brushes against Hanzo’s cheek before Hanzo closes the distance. Making his intentions known immediately before Genji interrupts them again, he rolls his tongue, sliding it against Hanzo’s. 

The smallest whimper escapes Hanzo’s lips, and Jesse can’t help but grin. He cups Hanzo’s face and the kiss deepens, their tongues dance together. He can feel Hanzo’s hand on his thigh move just that bit further up towards his semi, and he smiles, pulling away and looking down, placing his hand on top of Hanzo’s. As much as he is  _ aching  _ for Hanzo to grab him, the last thing he wants is Genji to be witness to it, only because he ain’t gonna hold back. 

“All in good time,” Jesse breathes, pecking Hanzo on the lips before sitting back.

“Yeah, when the two of you fuck,” Genji says flatly, “do me a favour and  _ don’t  _ do it in a place I can’t escape.”

Hanzo rolls his eyes as he sits back, picking up his glass from his cup holder and downing the lot. He leans forward and sets his glass on the tray. “Vodka,” he orders.

“Gettin’ started early?” Jesse asks, watching as Genji opens the bottle of vodka and pours it into both Hanzo’s and a fresh tumbler before handing Hanzo his drink. He waves the bottle at Jesse, and Jesse shakes his head in response.

“I am teaching Genji about different types of alcohol,” Hanzo says as Genji hands him his drink. “We primarily drink sake and umeshu, both of which are relatively mild in their alcohol content.  Our father has western drinks in his den—”

“And he would kill us if we touched it,” Genji adds.

“But since the drinking age in Japan is twenty,” Hanzo continues, “Genji is unable to experience such drinks unless I smuggle them in. ”

“Smuggle?” Jesse asks, surprised. “That’s a bold choice of word.”

“Our parents are strict as fuck,” Genji says, smelling the vodka and taking a sip. He screws his face and practically throws the tumbler onto the tray. “Fuck, this one is worse!”

“They do not tolerate disobedience.” Hanzo pauses, looks at Genji for a moment as he continues to make silly faces at the vodka. “Genji challenges them every chance he gets.”

“And you?”

“I…” Hanzo trails off. He glances back at Genji before looking at his hand on Jesse’s thigh, sliding it back towards his knee. “I am required to take over the family business. I do not have the opportunity to be disobedient because I am too busy working alongside my father. It is expected of me to achieve more than he achieved at this age, to prove that I am worthy to take over when the time comes.”

“When the time comes…”

“If he steps down, or dies. Whichever comes first.”

“I see,” Jesse says, rubbing his chin. Now Hanzo’s behaviour is starting to make sense. The rushed nature of their meeting… He’s on a deadline, this last chance to really be himself before he goes back home and becomes someone he potentially does not want to be. “Sounds like your dad conducts some important business back home. Part of me is surprised—purely based on what I’ve seen—that you don’t have a security detail.”

“That you know of,” Hanzo says sheepishly.

Jesse scoffs. “They’re tailin’ us, aren’t they?”

The limousine comes to a stop, and Genji opens the door. He climbs out, followed by Hanzo. When Jesse exits, he sees Hanzo talking to the driver of the limousine in Japanese, and then it hits Jesse that he is probably security, too. He looks at the club and it seems pretty standard. Thumping bass can be heard from behind the black double doors manned by two large bouncers, a long line of people wait along the perimeter, eager for entry. 

Genji approaches the bouncers, plucking his wallet from his back pocket. He digs through his cards, showing them something that doesn’t look an ID, but it’s too obscured to make out. “Three,” Genji says, pointing to Jesse then at Hanzo. 

The bouncers nod and stand to the side as Hanzo approaches, he wraps his arm around Jesse’s waist once more. “Let’s go.”

The double doors to the nightclub open, revealing a dimly lit corridor. They follow it around, the bass getting louder and louder with each step, to the point Jesse can feel it in his chest. The wall they’re approaching has flickers of different coloured lights, twirling in tune to the beat of the song. They round another corner and Jesse tightens his grip on Hanzo; a large dance floor full to capacity of people dancing, grinding and making out face them. 

They follow Genji to a section at the very back of the room, roped off and quieter; they must be utilising sound dampeners. The small area is occupied with a handful of people sitting on small couches and a bar is situated along the wall. Genji leads them to the last available couches; two small curved loveseats arranged in an open circle. It is tucked away in the back corner and away from prying eyes. 

Jesse sits down opposite Genji with his back to the dancefloor, sinking into the deceptively soft cushion and feeling the smooth leather under his fingertips. A small drinks menu sits on the low table next to a ‘reserved’ sign, and Jesse leans forward, picking it up and reading over the list of cocktails. 

“Can I get you anything?” Hanzo asks.

“Yeah, whatever you’re havin’,” Jesse answers, placing the menu back down. 

“Same,” Genji replies, and when Hanzo turns to walk away, Genji takes a seat next to Jesse. “So I can see you really like my brother,” he says, a slight hint of disapproval carrying on his tone.

Jesse chuckles nervously, wondering if this is going to be the ‘don’t hurt my brother or I’ll kill you’ talk. And based on the muscles on him, Genji probably could kill him one handed. “Yeah, he’s hot. And smart. And funny.”

Genji rolls his eyes. “You barely know him.”

“Just goin’ on what I can see,” Jesse says, looking over his shoulder at Hanzo, who is leaning forward onto the bar and sticking his ass out. Hanzo shifts his weight and his hips sway slowly before he looks over his shoulder and smirks when he makes eye contact with Jesse; like he  _ knew _ Jesse was looking at him.

“And he really likes you too,” Genji says flatly. “Don’t really know why.”

“Hey, I believe you were checkin’ me out at the beach too.”

“A guy’s gonna look...” Genji trails off, looking Jesse up and down, smirking. “Look, if you really want to impress Hanzo, talk in Japanese to him. I can teach you something.”

Jesse smirks at the thought of learning a bit of Japanese. “I wanna…” he trails off, trying to think of something to say. Smile growing wider and shaking his head at how corny he can be, he says, “I wanna tell him, ‘I think you look beautiful’.”

“Ugh,” Genji groans, “you’re so cheesy.” He looks at Hanzo for a moment, grins, then turns back to Jesse. “Okay, repeat after me.” Genji says the words in Japanese, and Jesse copies each syllable. “Now, say it back to me.” Jesse repeats the statement and Genji nods. “Yep, you got it. Now, don’t forget it,” he says quickly, sitting back in the opposite couch, looking at the bar.

Jesse follows his gaze and sees Hanzo returning with three drinks, a small amount of amber liquid and a single ice cube in the tumblers. 

“Scotch on the rocks,” Hanzo says, placing the glasses down. He hands one to Genji saying, “It is supposed to be drunk slowly.”

Genji nods, smelling the liquid before taking a sip. “Mmmmm… this one’s nice!”

Hanzo smiles, handing a glass to Jesse. When Hanzo sits back, Jesse holds his glass out and Hanzo clinks it, they both take a sip. 

Jesse hums, looking at the alcohol. “This is nice. Must be expensive.”

“Nothing I cannot handle,” Hanzo says, shuffling in closer to Jesse. Legs pressed together from the hip to the knee, Jesse can feel the warmth radiating off him. 

Jesse glances at Genji who nods eagerly before turning back to Hanzo. He brings his arm up, resting it on the back of the couch, brushing his fingers against Hanzo’s bicep. Sliding it up to his shoulder, Jesse strokes with his thumb, repeating in his mind what Genji told him before saying it aloud.

When Genji bursts into laughter, Jesse realises he’s made a huge mistake. Hanzo shoots daggers at him, saying something in Japanese that only has Genji laughing  _ harder _ before turning his attention back to Jesse.

“If my brother  _ ever _ tries to tell you something in Japanese, do not repeat it.”

Jesse closes his eyes, fighting the urge to reach over the table, grab Genji by the shirt and punch his stupid smug face. “What did I say?” he asks, opening his eyes.

“You told me that your balls are hairy and huge.”

Jesse wants to be pissed off, but instead he bursts out laughing. He looks at Genji, face pressed to the seat of the couch, and Jesse can see the tears form at the corner of his eyes as he cackles like a madman. Genji should be lucky that Jesse considers himself to have a good sense of humour and can take a joke. Still, he yells, “Fuck you too, Genji,” over the bass just to make sure he could hear it. He huffs, turning to Hanzo and saying, “Sorry about that. He told me that meant ‘I think you look beautiful’.”

Hanzo smiles, looking at his drink and acting somewhat bashful. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Jesse’s heart flutters at the sight of the man in front of him; this is the first time he has behaved anything other than strong willed and to-the-point. “I’m assumin’ you didn’t take offense considering one, you’re still here and two, there isn’t a drink in my face.”

“If I got offended every time Genji made one of my dates say something they did not intend, then I would not  _ have _ dates. And perhaps I wish to see if there is any truth to it.” Hanzo rakes a finger down Jesse’s chest, digging in with his fingernail before catching on his belt. “I do hear that Americans  _ are  _ big.”

Jesse’s breathing hitches as Hanzo’s hand slides past his belt, onto his crotch. He spreads his legs and exhales slowly when Hanzo cups him, squeezing with the barest of pressures. The sound of Genji’s laughter, the music, the club as a whole fades into white noise. The only thing Jesse hears is the slow, ragged breath that passes Hanzo’s lips. When his eyes meet Hanzo’s, Jesse rushes in and kisses him, an awkward mess of his tongue running against Hanzo’s bottom lip and teeth clanking before finding their rhythm. Hanzo palms him ever so slightly, his movements minute but forceful at the same time, timed in perfect sync with the rhythm of the kiss. When the kiss finally recedes, Hanzo slides his hand down and rests on Jesse’s inner thigh,  _ just  _ short of his erection. 

And just like that, the second their lips are parted, the sound of the club comes rushing back. Jesse sees Genji sit up on the corner of his eye, prompting him to lean away from Hanzo.

“Fuck me,” Genji sighs, covering his face with his hands. “I haven’t laughed like that in a long time. Thank you, hobo.” He wipes his face and looks at his hands. “Shit, my eyeliner has run.” Black streaks stain his cheeks, and what remains around his eyes make him look like he has two black eyes. Genji takes another sip of the scotch, placing the glass down as he says, “Be right back,” before wandering off for the bathroom.

Jesse turns his attention back to Hanzo and smiles, still stroking Hanzo’s shoulder with his thumb. He waits for Hanzo to say something, but when the stretch of silence only grows, Jesse starts to get a little nervous. Not wanting to sound like he needs validation of his size, but not knowing what else to say, he settles with, “Hey,” and immediately hates it.

“Hello.”

Jesse chuckles, taking a sip of the scotch. “Did I tell you that this is nice scotch?”

“You did.”

Jesse just stares at Hanzo, at a complete loss for words. And it seems Hanzo is, too. He doesn’t know if this is a good thing or bad thing. Well, considering Hanzo hasn’t kicked him out of the club, his hand hasn’t moved from his thigh, and if anything the gentle kneading has to be a good thing. Right? Then there’s the grin, and when did Hanzo’s hand end up on the back of his neck, rubbing small circles with his fingertips?

“All right, how do I look?” Genji asks as he approaches, sitting down. He looks decent, and honestly Jesse wouldn’t be able to tell he was just crying with laughter if he didn’t just witness it.

Hanzo looks at him and nods. “Pace yourself. A glass of water between drinks and you should not end up with a bad hangover. Use a condom.” He then switches to Japanese, and Genji’s eyes flick up to the windowed rooms, an apparent second floor of the building Jesse didn’t notice until now, before nodding and answering in Japanese. 

Finishing his scotch, Genji says, “Okay, I got this,” as he stands up and heads out onto the dancefloor. 

Jesse chuckles, watching as he almost seamlessly starts dancing with a couple like he was part of their group, and it’s only moments before their hands are all over him. With a sigh, Jesse turns his attention to Hanzo. “Good pep talk.”

“Someone has to look after him,” Hanzo says, looking back at Genji. “But enough about Genji.” Hanzo’s hand slides up Jesse’s thigh and onto his cock, tracing it with his fingers. “It seems what they say about Americans is true.”

Jesse melts into those words, finding himself being pulled in for another kiss. Hanzo doesn’t hold back; this time, instead of slow movements, he palms Jesse hard. Eyes sliding closed, Jesse instinctively rolls his hips, chasing that delicious friction. When he feels Hanzo’s hand slide up to the button of his trousers, he moans, tightening his grip on the back of Hanzo’s neck before sliding his hand upwards to tangle into his hair. 

Feeling his zipper being pulled down, Jesse breaks off the kiss and rests his forehead against Hanzo’s. He exhales slowly and bites his lip, watching as Hanzo’s hand disappears inside his pants. A small groan escapes Hanzo’s lips when he reaches in, his warm hand wrapping around Jesse’s throbbing cock. He tugs languidly, each pull sends white hot pleasure coursing through Jesse. 

Eyes sliding closed and doing his best to keep his hips still, Jesse presses his lips against Hanzo’s again, kissing him with burning need. He slides his other hand onto Hanzo’s chest and inside his shirt, cupping his firm pectoral. “Fuck, you’re so ripped,” Jesse breathes, kneading the muscle and swiping his fingertips over Hanzo’s nipple, pinching the hardened bud lightly. 

“Harder,” Hanzo whispers. 

Jesse kneads his pec before tugging his nipple, rolling it between his thumb and finger before twisting. Hanzo moans, Jesse can hear it just above the bass beat. He smirks, it seems Hanzo  _ is  _ loud in the bedroom.

As Jesse plays with Hanzo’s nipple, Hanzo leans in again and kisses him. Tongues sliding together, Jesse can feel Hanzo panting between kisses, the speed of his tugs increases as his grip tightens. 

Pulling away abruptly, Hanzo kisses along Jesse’s jaw, up to his ear. Jesse shudders, feeling his slow exhale. “Let’s find somewhere more private,” Hanzo whispers, his lips ghosting the shell before biting down on his earlobe gently.

Feeling the grip on his cock loosen, Jesse whimpers needily. When Hanzo pulls his hand out of Jesse’s underwear, Jesse immediately aches for his touch. Not wanting any more time than required away from Hanzo, Jesse quickly fixes himself up and finishes the scotch before standing up, taking Hanzo’s hand.

Hanzo guides Jesse along the perimeter of the room to the stairwell hidden in the corner, blocked off by a red velvet rope and another bouncer. Just like Genji outside, Hanzo fishes out his wallet and plucks the same card Genji did, and this time Jesse can see it and he was right about it not being ID, but rather an old cardboard business card with a gold embossed logo on it. In the split second he has to glance at it before Hanzo grabs his face and captures his mouth, he sees what he thinks is a dragon chasing a dragon, perhaps? Peculiar, but not at all surprisingly, considering these boys are clearly into dragons.

Upon hearing the chink of the rope being pulled back, Hanzo pulls away, leading Jesse up the stairs. They are greeted with a dimly corridor, and three closed doors to the right. Entering the second one, the small room contains a black leather couch, a glass topped coffee table and a bar, a single shelf behind it houses different kinds of alcohol. 

Separating from Hanzo, Jesse walks up to the bar, noting the bar equipment—mixers, stirrers, shot glasses, tumblers, martini glasses, champagne flutes and wine glasses ordered nearly. A small bowl of lemons and limes sits neatly atop next to a small stack of napkins and coasters, both with the club’s logo on them. Underneath the bar is a small fridge containing white wine and champagne, and a freezer compartment with a tray of ice.

Nodding in approval, he catches another door on the opposite end of the room. Opening it and seeing the small bathroom, nothing more than a toilet and basin, several different kinds of soap, cologne and perfume sit on the benchtop.

Closing the door, he finally approaches the window overlooking the dancefloor below. Scanning the crowd, he spots Genji with the same couple, making out with the woman before blindly reaching for the man’s shirt, pulling him in and kissing him. 

Looking on somewhat impressed with how fast he’s moved, the sound of music being significantly dampened draws Jesse's attention as the door to the room is closed. He looks over at Hanzo as he stalks across the room, his shoes clicking on the hardwood floors with each step.  

Hanzo places his hands on Jesse’s waist, resting his chin on his shoulder. The shift in weight tells Jesse he must be standing on his toes. “They cannot see up here,” he whispers, pressing his body against Jesse’s, feeling Hanzo’s cock pressed against his ass. 

“Is that right?” Jesse breathes, slowly exhaling when Hanzo grinds against him. He bites his lip when the grip on his waist tightens, and Hanzo grinds harder into him; a clear intention of how the evening is to proceed—which is totally fine with him, he prepared for this in any case. Curiosity getting the better of him though, cause he really, _ really _ , wants to fuck Hanzo, he asks, “So uh… you ever switch?”

“I have not.” Hanzo’s hand slides down to his crotch, palming him through his trousers. “Do you?”

“I’m open for it, tend to top mostly though.”

Hanzo hums, unbuttoning Jesse’s pants. “You do not mind?” He grabs the zipper pull, lowering it slowly.

“Fuck no,” Jesse breathes. Before Hanzo can get his hand inside Jesse’s underwear, Jesse turns his head, peeking at Hanzo behind him. “So if they can't see up here, you wouldn't mind if we did this?” Jesse turns, cupping Hanzo's face and meeting him in a fierce kiss.

Feeling Hanzo’s thigh pressed against his groin, Jesse’s knees weaken and he slides his hands down Hanzo's back, pulling him in close before sliding further and further down, onto that perfect ass of his, squeezing tight. Bending down to meet his height, Jesse slides his hands onto Hanzo’s thighs and picks him up, turning him around and pressing him against the window. 

Hanzo grunts, wrapping his legs around Jesse’s waist and his arms around his shoulders. “You are strong.”

“It comes with the job,” Jesse says, dragging his hands up Hanzo’s thighs before settling on his ass again. 

“Saving people from the water.”

“Yep.”

“You are a hero.”

Jesse smiles, looking at his hand on Hanzo’s ass. “Naw, I’m just doin’ my job.”

“You are too modest.” 

Jesse allows himself a small smile, but one of the things his mamá taught him when he told her he wanted to be a lifeguard was humility, that no one likes a bragger. Jesse focuses on his thumbs rubbing circles on Hanzo’s ass, but when Jesse feels Hanzo’s hand on his chin, lifting his head, Jesse looks up at Hanzo. 

“It is a breath of fresh air,” he smiles.

Jesse hums, sliding his hands up Hanzo’s waist and onto his torso, thumbing one of the buttons on his shirt. He wants to see those abs and wants nothing more than to feel them under his fingertips. “See a lot of shallow people?” he asks, settling on the first button on Hanzo’s shirt and undoing it.

“Those that want to be with me because of my power.”

Jesse stops on the next button, looking up. “Power?”

Hanzo sighs. “My family are quite influential.”

Jesse nods, undoing that button and the final button. “Your dad a politician or something?”

“Something,” Hanzo breathes as Jesse pulls Hanzo’s shirt from his slacks. Jesse’s hands trail up Hanzo’s waist, pushing the shirt back. He eyes the tattoo on Hanzo’s pectoral, fingertips brushing the dragon’s tail. He looks up at Hanzo as he slips his fingers under the shirt and slides his arm out of it, before tracing a finger down the dragon’s body, all the way to its head on Hanzo’s wrist.  

“This is an impressive tattoo for someone who’s only twenty one.”

“It commenced when I was fifteen, and completed when I turned twenty.”

“You were so young.”

“I was trained young.”

Jesse looks at Hanzo, wanting to ask him more about it. Tell him he knows irezumi when he sees it. Tell him that he knows that all but implies that he is yakuza. He takes a breath and smiles. Based on the hints Hanzo’s dropped, this holiday is a little more than a break for him. It’s more like an escape, and the last thing Jesse wants is to bring reality crashing down. Just staying in this little bubble, hunkering down and giving in to this quick, little romance is fine with Jesse.

That, and the last thing he wants to do is piss either of the brothers off in any way. He likes living too much to do anything stupid. 

Sighing after realising he all but killed the mood with his rambling thoughts, he looks over his shoulder to the bar. “Can I get you a drink? I was a part-time bartender back in Baja. Can make you somethin’ real fancy.”

Hanzo chuckles. “Were you one of those people who would do silly tricks with the bottles and mixers?”

“Yep,” Jesse smirks. “Flickin’ bottles over my shoulder and catchin’ them behind my back, rolling the mixer down my arm and catching it in mid air.” He pauses when Hanzo brings a hand up to his mouth, stifling his laughter. “What?” Jesse grins.

“So there is more to you than just looks.”

“Hey, I might not have gone to college but my mamá made sure I had a proper education. Got some damn good street smarts too.”

Hanzo hums, bringing his hand up to Jesse’s face, before running his fingers through his hair. “What is the saying? Does the carpet match the curtains?”

Jesse bursts out laughing, bringing his hand up to stifle it. He attempts to speak, breaking down into a fit of giggles. On the third attempt, he finally manages to say, “Oh my God, Hanzo, you’re awful.”

“What?” Hanzo asks, grinning.

“Maybe,” Jesse starts, his voice low and husky, “you should just look yourself.”

Unwrapping his legs and arms from Jesse, Hanzo turns and pushes Jesse up against the window, landing with a soft thud. Hanzo unbuttons Jesse’s shirt in a manner of seconds before his hands rake up and down Jesse’s torso, exploring every inch of skin. The look of concentration on Hanzo’s face is absolutely adorable as he drags his hands down Jesse’s stomach, pulling the skin slightly. Jesse tears his eyes from Hanzo to his stomach, seeing how  accentuated the rise and fall of his abs are.

Hanzo groans as he places his hand on the centre of Jesse’s stomach and splays his fingers, dragging his hand back up slowly. He digs the heel of his palm into the muscle, the pressure bordering on painful but nothing will make Jesse complain about it. Jesse’s eyes meet Hanzo’s as he takes Jesse’s pecs in his hand and gives them a firm squeeze. He bites his lip as he gives them one last knead before falling to his knees. 

Jesse wets his lips, now completely mindful of how dry his mouth is. A ragged breath passes his lips as Hanzo looks up at him and he hooks his fingers inside the waistband of his underwear. Those dark eyes, that sly grin; Hanzo will be the death of him.

Sliding Jesse’s underwear down enough that his cock springs free, Hanzo gasps at the sight, eyes taking in his length before he wraps his hand around Jesse’s cock and and pulls shallowly. “And it seems not,” Hanzo breathes, looking at the dark patch of neatly trimmed pubic hair at the base of Jesse's cock.

Jesse bites his lip as Hanzo licks his, edging closer and closer to his glistening head. A bead of precome pools at his slit when Hanzo strokes upwards, and Jesse’s breathing hitches when Hanzo teasingly presses soft kisses to Jesse’s shaft, down the length and on the underside before licking from base to tip.

Jesse’s head rolls back, hitting the glass when Hanzo takes him in his mouth; revelling in the warm wet of his mouth. It takes all his willpower to keep his hips still, though there is nothing that can be done when he grabs Hanzo’s head, fingers weaving through his tied up hair. He’s not guiding him, not applying any pressure to control Hanzo’s speed, he is just giving him gentle encouragement, keeping this session going.

Eyes sliding closed when Hanzo takes him in a firm grip at the base again, his hand matches his sucking. Jesse cracks an eye, watching Hanzo bob up and down while his tongue flicks the frenulum before encircling the glans. Gently, Jesse unties Hanzo’s hair from the top knot before pulling the hair tie out and running his fingers through Hanzo’s long locks.

Red hot pleasure shooting through him, he closes his eyes and bites his lip, not wanting to come in Hanzo's mouth before he's had a chance to feel Hanzo inside him. He focuses of the press of Hanzo’s tongue on his slit, the tightening grip on the base of his cock and the feel of Hanzo's hair between his fingers.

When Hanzo’s grip on his cock loosens and his hand slides away, Jesse opens his eyes again, seeing the tip of his dick pop out of Hanzo’s mouth. He watches as Hanzo works on getting his pants undone, biting his lip when Hanzo reaches into his pants, pulling out his cock. He strokes slowly, pulling back the foreskin, a bead of pre pools at his slit. Definitely a big man himself, Hanzo readjusts on his knees and takes Jesse in his mouth again, grabbing at the base, tugging to match his sucking. Running his fingers through Hanzo’s hair once more, Jesse closes his eyes and rests his head back against the glass.

When he hears the telltale  _ flick _ of a cap, Jesse opens his eyes, seeing Hanzo push Jesses’ cock against his stomach with his mouth. Jesse moans softly as his cock brushes against Hanzo’s cheek as he leans back, he brings his hand down and cups Hanzo’s face. Looking at Hanzo's swollen, spit slick lips, Jesse runs a thumb along Hanzo's bottom lip, whispering, “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

Hanzo takes Jesse’s thumb into his mouth, sucking on it as he applies the lube to his fingers. His teeth graze along the pad gently, and he leans back, kissing his thumb. “Turn around.” 

Breathing hitching as he hears Hanzo’s words, sounding so commanful, so strong, Jesse takes back his hand and turns around, facing the view of the people below. Hanzo pulls Jesse’s slacks down enough to expose his bare ass, and he feels Hanzo’s foot kick against his. He spreads his legs further apart and bends down slightly, jutting out his ass to meet Hanzo’s height.

Jesse groans when he feels Hanzo’s finger massage his entrance, and lets out a slow, ragged breath when he pushes in. He steadies his breathing with each languid penetration, and moans when he feels a second finger probe his entrance. 

Pushing in slowly, Jesse bites his lip, pleasure jolts through him with each slight movement Hanzo makes. He hisses when Hanzo starts scissoring, and his hips jerk when Hanzo finds his prostate.

“Do you like that?” Hanzo asks, and Jesse can  _ hear  _ the grin. Jesse only nods, resting his forehead against the window and closing his eyes. He keeps up his slow penetrations, all Jesse can hear is his own little moans. “Can you take your shirt off?” Hanzo asks softly. Jesse nods again, sliding one arm out of his shirt before the other, dropping it to the floor. He feels Hanzo’s hand brush against the small of his back. “You have so much body hair.”

Jesse chuckles, peeking over his shoulder. “And you have none.”

Fixated on the patch of hair at the base of his spine, Hanzo seems to realise his penetrations have stopped, if the sudden frown on his face is anything to go by. He looks at Jesse, the barest hint of a smile teases his lips. “Are you ready?”

Jesse groans, nodding. “Fuck yes,” he breathes.

Feeling Hanzo withdraw his fingers, he hears the sound of a condom wrapper. A moment passes before he hears the cap of the lube again, another moment, then the lid closes and is tossed to the floor; clattering on the wood. He feels Hanzo’s hand on his lower back, applying the barest of pressures and Jesse bends over further. Jesse peeks over his shoulder watching as Hanzo grabs his cheek and spreads him. Jesse grabs his other cheek and exhales sharply when he feels Hanzo press against him. 

He squeezes his eyes shut tight and breathes deep as Hanzo inches in slowly, leaving a delectable burn as he pushes on his walls and fills him up. Feeling Hanzo’s hips pressed against his ass, he takes back his hand and grabs himself in a tight grip, cock throbbing in his hand.

He moans when Hanzo thrusts slowly, shallowly but because of the angle, Hanzo rubs against his prostate in the most delicious way. He matches his tugging with Hanzo’s penetrations, slowly building up in speed, going faster and faster. 

Jesse’s hips jerk when he hears that first moan out of Hanzo. He increases his speed when Hanzo breaks out in Japanese, small whispers before it devolves into more moaning. The grip on his hips tightens, the relentless pounding on his prostate leaves him on the verge of orgasm. 

He cracks an eye, looking at the dancefloor below, at the people completely oblivious to the sinful act being committed almost right in front of them without their knowledge. Jesse didn’t think he had a public sex kink but fuck, this is the hottest sex he’s ever had. His mind briefly wanders to fucking Hanzo in public, in places where they could get caught, pushing the boundaries on how far they can get, how much they can do before they get caught.

“Fuck!” Hanzo groans suddenly, reality crashing around Jesse as Hanzo slams his hips into Jesse one final time.

Jesse moans and stutters his tugging, coming undone. His release shoots onto the window before dribbling down his hand and dripping onto the floor. He presses his forehead to the window, coming down from the high, smiling when he feels Hanzo press soft kisses onto his back. His clean hand slides up Jesse’s chest, taking his pectoral in his hand before holding him close. He enjoys the afterglow, the feeling of Hanzo's body pressed up against his, his embrace warm and tight and comforting and perfect. 

He groans when Hanzo slips out and takes a step back, sighing and aching for his touch. He wishes they had a bed to collapse into, to cuddle Hanzo forever. Absent that, Jesse turns around, cupping the back of Hanzo’s head and pulling him in for a sensual kiss.

When they separate, Jesse glances at the bar and whispers, “How about I fix you that drink now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first told Magisey about this AU, the first thing they suggested was: "Imagine him (Genji) noticing Hanzo and Jesse interested in one another and like Genji teaches Jesse some Japanese. He says it's "I think you look beautiful" but it's really something along the lines of "my balls are huge and hairy""
> 
> And this, folks, is how Genji ended up the extreme little shit he is in this fic!
> 
> Also, this is a work of fiction, always practice safe oral sex irl.


	4. White Hot Pleasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a lot of Australia packed into this chapter and I do not apologise for it.

“Stop it.”

“Make me.”

Jesse glances at Junkrat, cradling his head in his hands with a sly grin on his face. “I ain't tellin’,” Jesse says for what could easily be for the hundredth time today. He lost count at the tenth repetition. “How many times do I _need_ to tell you; I don't kiss and tell.”

“You realise you saying that is confirmation enough that you did, _in fact_ , get laid?”

“And I ain't denying it,” Jesse says, grinning. “That's _all_ you need to know.”

“So no more massages on the sand, then? He’s just a one-night stand?”

Jesse rolls his eyes. Though credit to Junkrat, his questions are getting more creative now. “They’re at Taronga Zoo today—”

“The zoo? Weather's a bit shit.”

Jesse hums, looking out the window; small raindrops run down the length of the panel. They've been cooped up in the Lifeguard tower since mid-morning and barely fifty people have been on the beach at one time. The remnants of ex-Tropical Cyclone Gabriel is battering the coast, bringing with it the potential for hundreds of millimetres of rain, four-metre high waves and howling winds. Lasting what they’re predicting to be the next day or two, the weather is set to worsen before it gets better, and they've already sent some of the other lifeguards home. Having six on duty was just too many.

“Yeah,” Jesse says eventually, turning to Junkrat. “They pre-booked the tickets and couldn't get out of it. Told 'em that they could probably beat it if they headed out first thing, and even if it does rain, the zoo should be empty enough that they'd probably have it all to themselves.”

“Yeah, probably,” Junkrat says, leaning back in his chair. He drums the table to some tuneless beat with his fingers. “So you're not seein’ him tonight, then?”

“Naw, not tonight. Tomorrow, though…” Jesse trails off, smirking.

“Oh ho ho!” Junkrat leans over the table and punches Jesse in the bicep. “Gettin’ in some birthday sex too, then!”

“He’s takin’ me out to dinner. And I ain’t gonna assume sex is on the table.”

“Oh _suuuuuuure_ , like you’re not thinkin’ about shaggin’ ‘im right now.”

Jesse shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. To say he hasn’t thought more about fucking Hanzo would be a lie. He wants nothing more than to fuck the guy’s brains out, but the discussion about Hanzo being a total top has put a dampener on those hopes. Doesn’t stop him from thinking about it though, wondering how tight he’ll be. Jesse’ll take it real slow for him, take good care of him and tell him how good he his for taking all of him.

Drawn from his thoughts by the door opening, Jesse shakes his head and looks over his shoulder, seeing Roadie step through with two paper bags in one hand, his dripping umbrella in the other. “Lunch and dessert,” is all he says, leaning the umbrella against the wall before placing the bags on the small table.

“Finally! I’m starvin’,” Junkrat says, leaning over and taking one of the bags. He opens it, pulling out three meat pies wrapped in greaseproof paper and hands them around.

Jesse has come to appreciate these meat and gravy pies the Aussies love. He was sceptical at first, trying a savoury pie when they should only be sweet. But they are surprisingly good, and Roadie and Junkrat kept raving about the pies from a local bakery they get for lunch every Monday.

Scrunching up the bag and tossing it in the trash, Junkrat heads to the cupboard above the sink, opening the doors. He pauses for a moment before asking, “Hey, Cowboy, did you bring the ketchup?”

“Yeah, saw it in the grocers and stocked up. That shit you call ‘tomato sauce’ ain’t ketchup.”

“Sure as hell isn’t!” Junkrat exclaims, bringing the bottle of ketchup and tomato sauce and placing them on the table before taking a seat. “Mate, you can’t have a meat pie and not _drown_ it in tomato sauce.”

Jesse had tried tomato sauce. Once. Runnier in appearance and tangy in taste, he vowed never to use the stuff as a condiment to any food ever again. He’s at a point now where he feels like he should carry a bottle of ketchup on him at all times, given Australia’s love for tomato sauce.

“I’ll stick to my ketchup,” Jesse chuckles, “thank you very much.”

“That sweetened imposter for tomato sauce doesn’t belong on a meat pie,” Junkrat argues. “It’s un-Australian!”

“Heathens,” Jesse says, swiping the bottle of ketchup and holding it close to his chest. “The lot’a you are heathens!”

Jesse glances at Roadie, his hand extended. He cautiously hands over the bottle of ketchup and Roadie flicks the cap and gives it a smell. Shrugging, he pours some onto his pie and takes a bite, nodding as he chews.

“Taste’s fine,” Roadie says after he swallows.

“Trust you to say that,” Junkrat says quickly, “you’ll eat anything!”

Jesse grins at Junkrat as he pours a glob of ketchup onto his pie. He looks at a disgusted Junkrat as he eats, and exaggeratingly hums and nods, saying, “Damn, that’s a good pie,” as he chews.

“And you call _us_ the heathens,” Junkrat says, defeated. He looks at his bottle of tomato sauce and grins, “Oh well, more sauce for me, then!”

They spend the two minutes it takes them to eat their pies in silence. Though as loud as he can, Junkrat screws up his greaseproof paper and exaggeratingly licks his fingers from tomato sauce. He leans over, picking up the second bag and opening it before looking at Roadie and laughs. “You, my good sir, are a madman.”

Jesse eyes the both of them suspiciously, Junkrat looks back into the bag and Roadie chuckles. “What?” Jesse asks finally when neither of them bother to speak.

Junkrat reaches into the bag and pulls out what looks like a cinnamon roll—rolled pastry, brown filling. Though, the longer he looks at it, the more it looks _less_ like a cinnamon roll, with its absence of glaze and sugar. The smell of cinnamon doesn’t fill the small room, and given Junkrat’s earlier comment, he is actually starting to really worry what _that_ roll actually is.

Junkrat slides the roll over and Jesse looks at it. He picks it up and it smells savoury, if not a little salty.

“What is this…?” Jesse wonders, taking a cautious bite. He pretty much all but spits it out. “Is that fucking vegemite?!” Junkrat’s maniacal laughter all but confirms that. “Why?” Jesse asks, looking at Roadie, “Why must you put vegemite on _everything_ you can?!”

“‘Cause vegemite is a national treasure and _belongs_ on everything,” Junkrat says breathlessly as he takes a bite out of his scroll. He hums exaggeratingly, and on the second bite, cheese pulls from the scroll.

“Vegemite and cheese?!” Jesse blurts, exasperated. “Is nothing sacred?”

“Vegemite and cheese is a winning combo and you cannot say otherwise,” Junkrat says, mouth full of food.

Jesse looks at Roadie for backup, affirmation that the roll sitting in front of him is an abomination, but he instead winks and takes a large bite out of his. Defeated, and considering Australia is now his home and he is yet to actually find a food he dislikes, he takes a bite, waiting for that strong, salty and bitter flavour vegemite actually has, but is instead greeted with a subtle saltiness. “Okay, this isn’t as bad as I was expecting.”

“Let me guess,” Junkrat says, licking his fingers, “you were one of those yanks who put a peanut butter layer of vegemite on a sandwich?”

Jesse smiles sheepishly. “The jar doesn’t come with instructions.”

“The jar…” Junkrat echos in disbelief. “Mate. You gotta work your way up to that amount of vegemite. That,” he says, pointing to the roll in Jesse’s hand, “is about as mild as you want it for your first time.”

“If I had this in a sandwich, then I’d probably eat it. Vegemite ain’t as bad as everyone says it is.”

“And we got another convert!” Junkrat exclaims, standing up. He claps Jesse on the back before sitting at the front of the tower facing the beach, and Roadie follows behind. Jesse quickly finishes his roll, makes a mental note to pick up the smallest jar of vegemite possible when he’s at the grocers next and to be more adventurous when it comes to Australia’s quirky foods.

He plops down in the seat next to Junkrat and scans the beach. “Even the surfers have gone,” Jesse murmurs, looking down the length of the beach from left to right and seeing _no one_.

“Yep,” Junkrat groans, slumping in his seat. “I reckon you can head on home if you wanted. The weather’s not gonna get any better from here, and it’s too dangerous to be out there attempting a rescue as it is. If anyone’s stupid enough to go out there the choppers’ll have to handle it.”

“Naw,” Jesse says quickly. The rain picks up and with it the wind, blowing it sideways. The tower creaks and Jesse swears he felt it move. A part of him wonders if that’s the universe telling him he shouldn’t stay, but a little wind and rain ain’t gonna scare him. He then thinks about Hanzo, hoping that he’s no longer at the zoo. Chewing his bottom lip, he checks his phone and there are no messages from him. “I ain’t got anything better to do anyway, and seeing the boring workings of the tower during a storm will be entertaining enough,” he says absently. Not that he was expecting a message from Hanzo, but he wonders if he should check in. He hesitates though, he doesn’t want to come across as too clingy.

“You realised you used ‘boring’ and ‘entertaining’ in the same sentence, right?” Junkrat asks, amused.

Jesse only half hears him, then he snaps out of his ramblings and looks at Junkrat. “Hmm?”

“Never mind,” Junkrat says. “Though no complaining that you’re bored shitless. You chose to stay here by your own free will.”

* * *

Jesse should have gone home.

There was literally _nothing_ to do. And with each passing minute, it seemed too silly to finish early anyway, with the day slowly edging closer and closer to seven p.m. He looks out at the blackened skies which have well and truly burst their banks now. The wind is sporadic at best, but the rain has been constant. He looks at the rain radar, seeing a long blob of yellow and red highlighting the intensity of the rain battering the eastern coast, as far north as Brisbane and as far south as Canberra.

He yawns for what has to be the hundredth time, and is thankful Junkrat is making coffee. It might be that instant shit, but caffeine is caffeine, and the smell alone is the kick he needs to stop from falling asleep.

“How about a 2025 Corolla?” Roadie asks. Junkrat has spent the afternoon looking for an old car engine for something he refuses to explain what for, claiming it’s ‘a surprise’ while flashing a maniacal grin. That alone has Jesse worried. “It’s nothing but a shell now, but apparently the engine is still in working order.”

“How much?” Junkrat asks over his shoulder.

“Six hundred and fifty.”

“Tell ‘im he’s dreamin’!” Junkrat exclaims at the same time Jesse mouths the words. He inhales slowly and exhales just as slowly. This is what the conversation has been for the last two hours. Roadie suggests something, Junkrat blows it off with a ‘tell ‘em he’s dreamin’’. Round and round they go, it seems that Junkrat isn’t willing to pay anything _for_ anything.

A mug is placed down on the console and Jesse sits up, looking at Junkrat. “Thanks,” he says, picking it up and holding it in his hands.

Junkrat nods, walks back into the kitchen and returns with his mug and sets down a packet of Tim Tams. “Ever done a Tim Tam slam?” he asks, sitting down and grinning from ear to ear.

“A what now?”

“Tim Tam slam. The only way to eat a Tim Tam.”

“Lie,” Roadie says, leaning over for the packet. Junkrat opens it and he takes one, taking a bite out of the biscuit. “You can eat them like this.”

“ _That_ is un-Australian!” Junkrat exclaims, turning his back on a shrugging Roadie. “So! A Tim Tam slam.” He picks up a biscuit and nibbles on one corner. “Take a small bite out of one corner.” He turns it in his hand, taking a small bite out of the opposite corner. “Same with here.” He holds it in his hand, just above his coffee. “You dunk one corner in your drink and suck it through the biscuit like a straw. When you feel your coffee on your tongue, shove the biscuit in your mouth and enjoy!”

Jesse grins, fishing a biscuit out of the packet and repeating Junkrat’s actions. He looks at Junkrat with a nod and the two of them together dunk it in their coffee. The second Jesse can taste the coffee through the biscuit, he places the entire thing in his mouth, savouring the delicious molten biscuit and chocolate flavoured with coffee and fuck yes that is the only way to eat one of these biscuits. He nods as he chews, swallowing it down.

“Good yeah?” Junkrat asks, looking at his fingers and licking them.

“Fuck yeah,” Jesse responds, licking his own fingers.

“Children,” Roadie says slowly, tone mocking disapproval as he looks from them to the holodisplay of trading post ads.

It isn’t long after that when they get the call from the council saying to close the beach. They quickly tidy up and Jesse along with Junkrat collect the flags from the beach in the driving rain—something he hopes to never do ever again. Soaked down to the bone, he changes into his dry clothes and actually questions whether he needs to have a shower.

He looks at the forecast for tomorrow as he collects his things from the tower before heading home. It seems the weather is going to be just as bad.

* * *

Jesse wakes to his phone vibrating on the bedside table. He cracks an eye and the darkness of the room tells him that it’s not his alarm. Rubbing his eyes, he blindly searches for his phone, picking it up and looking at the notification—a text message—before looking at the time, reading two forty-seven a.m.

“What the fuck,” Jesse mutters, unlocking his phone and opening the message app.

 **_> >Unknown Number  
_ ** _ >>HAPPY BIRTHDAY HOBO! U SHOULD B HERE _

And under the message is a picture of Hanzo sitting on the same couch at the same club from the night prior. Hanzo looks almost longingly into the distance, unaware that Genji has taken the picture of him. He’s holding a martini glass in his hand, a lemon twist sits at the bottom and Jesse can’t help but smile, because that was the exact drink he made for Hanzo in their private room.

_ >>U BROKE HIM HOBO. HE WONT DANCE WITH ANYONE. HE KEEPS MOPING AROUND 4 U _

Jesse smiles again, and would totally be down for joining them at the club if his shift didn’t start at six a.m. Though, the thought of Hanzo not being himself makes Jesse feel a little giddy. He’s never met anyone like him before, let alone been this _intimate_ with someone like him before. He’s looking forward to being with Hanzo again this evening, and he knows it’ll make his twenty-first one to remember.

Then, another picture comes in, one of Hanzo looking right at the camera. Scowling, he’s got adorable wrinkles between his brows and his lips are downturned. Genji has obviously been discovered. Jesse analyses Hanzo; even when angry the man is hot.

 _ >>HE WANTS U  
_ _ >>HE WANTS UR _8====D_ _

“Okay,” Jesse breathes, placing his phone back down on the bedside table. Obviously drunk, Jesse ignores it as best he can, even when it vibrates a couple more times. Probably more teasing from Genji, he assumes as he lies back down.

He thinks about Hanzo wanting him. It could be Genji lying but the thought of the man with the same drink Jesse made him, apparently not intent on finding another hook-up has a heat blooming from his core. Feeling his swelling cock resting against his thigh, he slips his hand under the blankets, biting his lip and taking it in his hand, pulling languidly to get himself hard.

Flicking the blanket off himself, he tightens his grip and pumps. He closes his eyes and imagines Hanzo on top of him, bouncing up and down on his cock. Jesse runs his hands up Hanzo’s thighs, fingers digging into the muscle before reaching for Hanzo’s dick, tugging.

Jesse moans, then bites his lip to keep his volume down, mindful of the thin walls of his apartment. He runs his thumb over his leaking slit, spreading precome over his oversensitive head.

Hips jerking, he imagines Hanzo moaning on top of him, pinning him down and fucking him hard, swearing in Japanese when Jesse’s cock finds his prostate. A final moan, and Hanzo spills on his stomach.

Back arching, Jesse pulls his cock up, coming on his stomach. He gasps for air, not realising he was holding his breath. Chuckling to himself, he wipes the sweat on his brow with the back of his clean hand before running his fingers through his hair, milking the last of his come onto himself as he catches his breath.

He lays his softening cock flat on himself and dabs his fingers through his come, imagining it’s Hanzo’s.

* * *

The low rumble of thunder wakes Jesse up before his alarm. Groaning and rolling over, he peeks at his covered windows, seeing light filter through the gaps.

He sits up and groans again, running his fingers over the dried come on his stomach. “Fuck,” he mutters, not even realising he fell asleep after jacking off. He huffs, running his clean hand through his hair and vowing always to clean up after wanking, no matter how tired he is. Not that he’s ever come on himself like that before. God, the feeling of come on him, even though it was his own, was enough to drive him insane.

Ignoring his morning wood which is practically a fully-fledged boner now, he directs his attention to the low jingle of his alarm, picking up his phone and cancelling it before it gets any louder. Looking at his message notifications, he opens the app, remembering that he did get more texts after he placed his phone down.

Simultaneous guilt and excitement wash through him when he sees the texts were from Hanzo.

 ****_**> >Hanzo**  
_ _ >>I apologise for Genji’s behaviour, and I sincerely apologise if he woke you.  
_ _ >>And happy birthday. I am looking forward to seeing you today. _

Jesse smiles as he types up his reply.

 _ >>Hey Hanzo. No need to apologise. I went straight back to sleep anyway. _ Jesse chuckles again, resisting the urge to scratch at the dried come on his stomach. _I’m looking forward to seeing you too._ He reads the message over and over before hitting send, and it’s not until it’s gone that he realises that Hanzo is probably asleep, and he might have just woke him.

_ >>And I’m sorry if that woke you. _

And with that, he places his phone back on the bedside table, fully convinced that if the first message didn’t wake him, the second one would. Shaking his head and owing Hanzo a proper apology if it _did_ wake him, he puts on his sweatpants and a t-shirt and heads to the bathroom for a shower.

Feeling refreshed and clean, swiping his hand over his now clean torso, he heads back to his bedside table and checks his phone. He stops, seeing a message from Roadie.

 **_> >Roadie_ ** **_  
_ ** _ >>Jesse. Rain forecast all day and beach will probably be closed by lunchtime. Have the day to yourself. Consider it your birthday present. -R _

Jesse sits down on his bed and smiles. He wants to tell Roadie that he can come in, that he’ll spend the day in the tower again; as boring as it was yesterday. But the thought of spending the day with Hanzo instead is too good to pass up.

_ >>Thanks boss. Let me know if you need the extra hand. Going to have a quiet day anyway. _

Jesse nods as he presses send, opening Hanzo’s message again. Considering he hasn’t heard back from the man is probably indication enough that he is still asleep. He thinks about messaging him and telling him now that he’s got the day off, but instead places his phone in standby. He’ll text Hanzo when he responds or at nine a.m., whichever comes first.

* * *

Jesse has a spring in his step as he approaches Hanzo’s hotel again.

He ended up texting Hanzo at eight-thirty to tell him he had the day off. He couldn’t wait, and the absolutely adorable message back— _Come by the hotel at ten. I wish to spoil you—_ was enough to get him in a fantastic mood.

When he enters the lobby, he sees Hanzo and Genji waiting for him. “Fellas,” he breathes as Hanzo approaches him, stands on his toes and embraces him.

“I have missed you,” Hanzo whispers.

Jesse squeezes Hanzo just that little bit tighter in response, closing his eyes when they unexpectedly prickle, tears on the verge of forming. Quite the surprise for someone he’s known for barely forty-eight hours and knows absolutely nothing about. “I missed you too,” he croaks eventually.

When Hanzo pulls away, Jesse keeps his arm around his shoulders, realising he fits quite well under his arm. He looks at Genji, buried in his phone. “Genji.”

“Hobo,” Genji mutters, glancing up from his phone for the barest of moments. “I don’t know what Hanzo has planned. I don’t _want_ to know what Hanzo has planned. All I know is I get to wander the city for the day by myself.” He slips his phone into his jeans pocket and runs his fingers through his dark bangs, the only part of his hair not tied up in a top-knot. “Might get a haircut, might just dye it.”

“Do that and both mother and father will kill you,” Hanzo warns.

“But it will be worth it to see the looks on their faces.”

“Genji,” Hanzo pleads, taking a step forward. “If you do anything stupid I will get the blame and we will never be able to travel together without them again.”

Genji shrugs. “They know you can’t stop me, either.”

Hanzo sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just spend the day shopping. You have the credit card, yes?”

“Of course I do,” Genji says, irritated. He looks at Jesse and smiles. “Let me know when it’s safe to come back.”

“Will do, Genji. Enjoy your day.”

Genji only nods and walks away. “Oh!” He exclaims, prompting Jesse and Hanzo to turn around, seeing Genji standing in the doorway. “And don’t fuck on my bed!” he yells, quickly turning around and running out of the lobby.

Jesse takes a breath and holds it when he realises everyone’s eyes are on him. Keeping his head low, he murmurs to Hanzo, “Your brother—”

“—Is a little shit.”

“You took the words right from my mouth,” Jesse grins, exhaling. When he’s met by silence, he glances at Hanzo, noting his twitching eye and throbbing veins in his neck. Jesse places a hand on his back, between his shoulder blades, before sliding it down, settling on the base of his spine. He traces a finger along Hanzo’s belt in an effort to distract him from Genji’s words and when Hanzo refuses to look away from the front door to the lobby, Jesse prompts, “So uh… what are we doin’ then?”

Hanzo blinks, looking at Jesse as a devilish grin crosses his face. “I had planned on taking you out for coffee and cake, however I do not think I can wait…” Hanzo places a hand on the centre of Jesse’s chest, holding it there for a moment before dragging it down, over his stomach and when he moves past Jesse’s belt, Jesse steps away, completely mindful of _everyone_ still looking at them.

“Actually, coffee and cake sound good,” he says quickly. When he’s met with a scowl, he adds, “Not that I’m not wantin’ you right now, it’s just I’d rather not when these folks here will know what’s goin’ down. It’s downright creepy.”

Hanzo sighs, taking a moment to consider the suggestion. “We order room service,” he counters. “I hear the food at the in-house restaurant is excellent.”

Assuming Hanzo isn’t the kind of person to just roll over, Jesse nods, standing to the side and extending an arm towards the elevator. “After you,” he drawls.

Jesse follows beside Hanzo, keeping his hand on Hanzo’s lower back as they walk. They stand by the elevator doorman and Jesse nods at him, looking away when the man looks between him and Hanzo with a sly grin on his face.

After what feels like an eternity, the elevator chimes and the door opens. The doorman extends an arm to keep the elevator doors from closing, and pulls away when Jesse and Hanzo are safely inside. Praying internally that the man doesn’t say anything weird, Jesse looks at the man and nods again, and after another eternity, the doors finally close.

Jesse exhales noisily, watching Hanzo press the button to the third floor. The elevator bounces subtly and before Jesse can even think about slipping his hand down to Hanzo’s ass, the elevator is dinging again and the door opens.

By Hanzo’s side, Jesse is led down the corridor. He notes how plush the carpet feels under his feet, the gold numbers on each door he passes. Definitely way out of his element, he swallows the lump in his throat and focuses on trying to have a good time, knowing this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing.

They stop at room 311, Hanzo pulls a card out of his pocket and swipes it to the scanner. It beeps twice quickly and the door unlocks, Hanzo pulls down on the handle and opens the door stepping inside.

Jesse looks at Hanzo as he walks in before looking at the open plan kitchen and dining area. Marble countertops, stainless steel appliances, a glass top dining table, cream-coloured leather couches and a holounit built into the wall. The curtains are drawn, but given the location of the hotel, he is surprised at how… unremarkable it all looks.

Hearing another door open, Jesse looks over and sees a bedroom, following Hanzo inside. A neatly made king size bed is against one wall, but Jesse only glances at that, his eyes are drawn to the glass doors leading onto the balcony. When Hanzo opens them and steps onto the balcony, Jesse’s mouth hangs open at the view of the Sydney Opera House, so close he could throw a stone and it would bounce off the roof.

“That is…” Jesse trails off, standing next to Hanzo. He can see the rain falling in rivulets down the steep roof of the Opera House, sparkling in the lights illuminating the building. “Gorgeous. This room must cost a fortune.”

Hanzo hums, looking at Jesse. He places a hand on his bicep and slides it down his arm, stopping at his wrist. “I have been thinking…”

A smile blooms across Jesse’s lips. “Oh, what about?”

“I have not had anyone inside me. I wish my first to be you.”

Jesse’s stomach drops and he goes from flaccid to hard in about a second. “You sure? I’m pretty much a one-night stand,” he blurts out, catching himself by surprise. Why the _fuck_ he would question the one thing he’s wanted more than anything since deciding to move to Australia is beyond him.

“The moment I felt you rub against me on the beach,” Hanzo says, his voice low and husky as he licks his lips, “it is all I have wanted.”

 _Fuck,_ Jesse thinks to himself, _this man_ will _be the death of me._ He places his hands on Hanzo’s waist, pulling him in close. “You fuckin’ drive me insane.” His breathing hitches when he feels Hanzo’s hand slide down his stomach and onto his cock, palming him through his jeans.

“I can see,” Hanzo purrs, digging the heel of his palm along Jesse’s erection slowly. He groans, burying his head in the crook of Hanzo’s neck and taking in his smell; the subtle hint of soap on his skin is mostly masked by the cologne on his clothes. He rests his hands on Hanzo’s hips and when he slides them onto his ass, Hanzo steps away; leaving Jesse aching for his touch and chasing him unwittingly, reaching out for his hand again but grasping nothing but air.

With an aura of superiority to him—a smug grin, single eyebrow raised like he wasn’t just the world’s biggest tease—Hanzo sits on the bed and picks up the tablet sitting on the bedside table, tapping away at it. “Which coffee would you prefer?”

“Oh, ah…” Jesse trails off, approaching Hanzo. Switching from fucking Hanzo to placing a coffee order is too much for his brain to handle, and his mind unhelpfully supplies him licking whipped cream off Hanzo’s chest. He takes a seat on the bed next to Hanzo, eyes flitting over the list. “Just a mocha.”

Hanzo’s eyes snap to meet Jesse’s. “Sweet tooth,” he grins.

“Guilty as charged,” Jesse chuckles. He watches Hanzo select six different flavours of macarons, a slice of chocolate and salted caramel mud cake and a slice of blueberry cheesecake to go with their coffee order.

With a satisfactory nod, Hanzo places the tablet back down on the nightstand. “Come with me,” he breathes, standing up and holding out his hand.

Jesse takes Hanzo’s hand and is led back out to the kitchen. Behind the bench is an ice bucket with a bottle chilling in it. Jesse smiles as Hanzo picks it up from the neck and holds it out for him to read.

“Vintage 2018,” Jesse says, surprised, looking from the bottle to Hanzo. “This couldn’t have been cheap.”

“It is potentially the most expensive bottle of champagne I will ever have the pleasure of drinking,” Hanzo says, unwrapping the foil and muselet from the—

“A cork!” Jesse barks. “I’ve only seen bottles of champagne with _actual_ corks in pictures.”

Hanzo smirks, sliding his thumb under the wire cage before tossing it on the bench. Like an expert, Hanzo opens the bottle, holding his hand over the cork while he twists the bottle slowly, his smirk growing wider as he sideways glances at Jesse just as the telltale _pop_ of the cork coming loose is heard.

Handing the cork to Jesse, Hanzo places the bottle on the bench to rest before sliding over the two champagne flutes into reach. He picks up another tablet and after a moment the curtains draw, revealing the view of the Opera House from here, though not as nice as the bedroom.

Looking back at the cork, Jesse plays with it, indenting it slightly with a fingernail before giving it a firm squeeze, feeling the sponginess of the material.

“I would have thought working at a bar you would have seen bottles with corks,” Hanzo says, pouring the champagne into the flutes.

“I didn’t exactly work at a place that fancy. It was mostly cocktails and tequila shots.” Jesse takes the glass from Hanzo’s hand, looking at it then back at him, adding, “And not always out of glasses, either.”

Hanzo snorts an adorable little laugh, bringing his hand up to his mouth to stifle it. “I hope you were not used as a prop.”

“Naw, bar staff weren’t allowed to drink on the job. It was fun, though, watchin’ it all unfold,” Jesse smiles, imagining licking salt off Hanzo’s body… On his hip just above the waistband of his underwear, maintaining eye contact as he licks the sensitive skin before taking the shot, then plucking the lime from Hanzo’s mouth… Jesse shakes his head slightly before getting lost in _those_ thoughts, eyes flitting from his champagne to Hanzo’s. “Thank you for this, you didn’t have to spend the money on me.”

“Nonsense,” Hanzo says quickly, brushing it off with the wave of his hand. “The twenty-first birthday in America is a special occasion, is it not?”

“It’s a big one, yeah.”

“Well,” Hanzo starts, extending his glass, “here’s to a special birthday, Jesse.”

Jesse smiles, clinking his glass with Hanzo’s and taking a sip. He hums, letting the alcohol linger on his tongue a moment before swallowing, noting the hints of spiciness, similar to dried fruit. “Hanzo, this has to be the nicest champagne I’ve had.”

Hanzo hums, looking from the glass to Jesse. “It is very nice.” He gestures to the couch with the extension of his hand, Jesse takes a seat on the couch as Hanzo sits opposite in the armchair.

Jesse takes another sip, leaning back into the couch. “So when does Genji get back?”

“Sometime in the afternoon. I will message him when we are certain we are done.”

Unable to contain his smirk, Jesse asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows, “When we’re done?”

“Unless you do not have the stamina for more than one round,” Hanzo says cockily before taking a sip of his champagne.

Jesse breathing hitches, watching as Hanzo slouches in the armchair slightly, spreading his legs just that bit further apart. He rests his champagne flute high on his thigh, drawing Jesse’s attention to his crotch, and to the very obvious bulge in his jeans. If it was intentional, then mission fucking accomplished, Jesse wants nothing more than to suck his dick.

Taking a gulp of champagne and setting the flute on the coffee table, Jesse stalks over to Hanzo, kneeling down between his legs. He spreads them further apart as he slides his hands up Hanzo’s thighs and onto his waist, feeling Hanzo’s black silk shirt underneath his fingertips. He works on unbuttoning it, one button after another until he’s done, pulling the shirt free from his jeans.

Jesse hums, raking his fingertips along Hanzo’s abs. He traces the outline of the muscle from top to bottom before settling on the hem of Hanzo’s jeans. Maintaining eye contact with Hanzo, he unbuttons his jeans before slowly unzipping them.

Cool as a cucumber, Hanzo watches on while sipping his champagne, and his only tell that he is enjoying this is the slight raggedness of his breaths. Jesse hooks his fingers in the waistband of his jeans, pulling them and his underwear down enough, revealing his erection. Jesse takes it in his hand, stroking languidly before leaning down, licking the velvety smooth skin from base to tip.

Jesse smiles when the smallest whimper escapes Hanzo’s lips, and the last thing he sees is Hanzo’s eyes widen as Jesse takes him in his mouth. Sucking on the tip, he circles the glans with his tongue before taking more of him. Feeling Hanzo’s dick press against his soft palate, he inhales through his nose, relaxes his throat and takes him all the way. Jesse’s nose presses against Hanzo’s skin as Hanzo’s cock pushes against his throat.

He hears a gasp and feels Hanzo’s hand in his hair, grabbing a handful but not pulling. When Jesse swallows around him, Hanzo moans, mutters something in Japanese, _then_ pulls back on his hair. Jesse makes it a point to drag his tongue along the underside of Hanzo’s dick, flicking against the frenulum before sucking his glans. He parts from Hanzo with a wet pop making eye contact with him and smirking.

“Too much?” Jesse breathes, grabbing Hanzo’s cock in his hand and stroking, using his spit as lubrication.

“Just unexpected,” Hanzo replies breathless, leaning forward and cupping Jesse’s face. He runs his thumb along Jesse’s lower lip before leaning back and taking a sip of champagne. He looks at his cock, then at Jesse, and that is all the invitation Jesse needs to take Hanzo in his mouth again.

Matching his sucking with his tugging, Jesse hollows his cheeks and encircles the glans with his tongue. He steals a few glances at Hanzo, winking when they make eye contact. Hanzo runs his fingers through Jesse’s hair and applies the barest hint of pressure, guiding his bobbing.

Dick straining uncomfortably in his jeans, Jesse tries to adjust himself, digging the heel of his palm into his erection. When that makes it more uncomfortable, he unbuttons his jeans one-handed, lowers the zipper pull and reaches into his underwear, grabbing his cock and fishing it out. He moans, the grip in his hair tightens. Glancing at Hanzo, he winks and matches his sucking with his tugging.

Jesse is startled when there is a knock at the door. Pulling away from Hanzo, Jesse looks up at him as he hears an innocent “Room service” from the other side of the door.

Hanzo—the cheeky prick—smirks and raises an eyebrow, glancing over his shoulder to the door behind him. “You can stop if you want.”

Never one to back down from a challenge, Jesse only shakes his head and continues, pressing his lips to Hanzo’s slit before taking him in his mouth once more. Hearing Hanzo moan sends a jolt of pleasure shooting through him and has his hips bucking.

“Come in,” Hanzo says after the second knock, voice breathy.

Jesse reluctantly loosens his grip on his own dick and slides his jeans and underwear back up; his cock rests between his stomach and the band of his underwear. He slides his hand up Hanzo’s thigh, onto the bare skin of his torso before settling on his pectoral. Jesse won’t admit it, but at least his bicep is covering his face and saving his modesty. His adrenaline spikes when he hears the door open, but doesn’t stop or even slow his sucking. He hears the sound of a trolley being wheeled in followed by footsteps, and almost chuckles when he hears the footsteps falter.

“Just on the bench,” Hanzo orders, carrying an air of confidence like he’s not having his dicked sucked right now.

Jesse risks a glance up at Hanzo, his eyes are squarely trained on Jesse. The footsteps continue, almost hurriedly before the sound of ceramic being placed on the marble benchtops quickly and forcefully. Jesse focuses on the sweat on Hanzo’s brow, the flush in his cheeks and the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. He feels the thick texture of pre before he tastes it, the salty-bitter flavour touches his tongue and he sucks, swallowing that down.

The second he hears the footsteps again, Jesse winks, grabbing Hanzo in a firm grip and tugging to match his sucking. He feels Hanzo’s hips jerk, he sits forward and the handful of hair tightens, the burn on Jesse’s skull bordering on painful. He deepthroats again and Hanzo groans, the footsteps increase their pace, the clack on the tile disappears on the carpet in the corridor. The second the door is slammed closed, Hanzo kicks his leg, wrapping it around Jesse’s back. Pulled in close, that is the only warning Jesse gets before his mouth fills with come.

Swallowing the load, Jesse pulls away and milks Hanzo, licking up the dribbles of come as it pools at his slit. “Well that was wild,” Jesse chuckles, holding Hanzo’s spent cock in his hand in a loose grip.

“It was not my intention to finish in your mouth,” Hanzo breathes, loosening the hold on his hair and sliding his hand around, cupping Jesse’s face and swiping his thumb on his cheek. Jesse practically shudders at the implication, the thought of Hanzo coming on his face, feeling the warm spurts on his cheek and mouth sends another jolt of pleasure through him.

Jesse pushes down his underwear, taking himself in his hand again. A moan passes his lips as Hanzo smirks, leans forward and looks down.  

“Hanzo...” Jesse mewls, tightening his grip. Next thing Jesse knows is he’s pulled to standing, then pulled down into Hanzo’s lap. The chair reclines slowly, taking Jesse by surprise as he places a steadying hand on Hanzo’s shoulder.

“Come on me, Jesse,” Hanzo orders, his voice low and husky when he’s almost horizontal.

Jesse moans again, squeezing Hanzo’s shoulder tightly and leaning forward. It only takes two more strokes before he comes, his orgasm shooting onto Hanzo’s tattooed pectoral. He sweeps down, kissing Hanzo softly as he comes down from the high. “You are gonna be the death of me,” Jesse whispers against Hanzo’s mouth.

Hanzo chuckles, looking down at his come-covered chest. “You are the first person who I have allowed to mark me,” he whispers, looking back at Jesse.

Jesse smiles, sweeping Hanzo’s hair behind his ear with his clean hand. “Seems like I’m lucky, then.”

“Extremely.”

Jesse climbs off Hanzo once his cock has softened, slipping it inside his underwear. “I’ll get you a towel,” he says, kissing Hanzo one more time before scanning the room for a bathroom. Eyeing the room beside the bedroom, Jesse opens the door and enters, seeing a bathtub on the opposite side. He plucks a folded hand towel from the countertop on the left of the door, handing it to Hanzo who drapes it over himself before wiping up.

Jesse picks up Hanzo’s champagne from the floor, handing it to him when the chair is in its upright position. He finishes it, and Jesse takes his from the coffee table, downing the lot and chasing down the taste of come.

Hanzo tosses the towel to the bathroom door and takes off his shirt, draping it on the chair. Pulling up his jeans as he stands, he makes no effort to do them back up, and when he approaches the bench, they fall slightly, the barest hint of his thong pokes over the top. Practically feeling himself swelling again, Jesse’s mouth runs dry as he eyes those two dimples, and his eyes snap to meet Hanzo’s when he turns around, the plate with the mudcake in his hands as he grins.

“I believe it is time you indulged in some birthday cake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, there's a few notes here... xD
> 
> The ketchup/tomato sauce discussion was lifted from a rl convo between me and @amusedandconfused xD
> 
> [Tell 'im he's dreamin'!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dik_wnOE4dk) from the Aussie cult classic, The Castle.
> 
> And [Tim Tam slams!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VMbrlxTIVtI) This is the only way I eat tim tams. If anyone offers me a tim tam absent a hot drink, I make one. Many times I have done this while waiting in queue for Overwatch and many times I have got chocolate all over my mouse from being thrown into an in-progress game and I haven't had the time to savour it. If you ever come across tim tams, I suggest trying this.
> 
> The room Hanzo is staying in is based on an actual hotel, and the room is a AUD$16,000/night hotel room. If anyone's curious!
> 
> The scene with Jesse thinking about doing body shots off Hanzo was one of those unexpected plot points. Then it turned into a plot-bunny that would not leave me, and is wholly responsible for my fic ["Work Hard, Party Harder"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13670010) cause I had an absolute _need_ to write body shots.


	5. Soft Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super minor reference to drugs in this chapter.

Kissing Hanzo is about as natural as breathing.

Their mouths fit together perfectly, their tongues slide against each other in perfect sync, and in this moment each sweep carries the lingering taste of coffee and sweets shared. 

If Jesse had it his way, he would kiss Hanzo all day, every day.

But... the need to breathe is stronger.

Jesse pulls away from Hanzo and inhales deeply, looking into his dark, sparkling eyes. He sits up in Hanzo’s lap, thumbs rubbing circles on Hanzo’s waist.

“You’re sure you wanna do this?”

“For the hundredth time, yes.” Hanzo arches an eyebrow, flashing a cocky grin. “Do you  _ not _ want to do this?”

“There’s nothin’ I want more than this,” Jesse smirks, climbing off Hanzo so he can turn over onto his stomach. 

“Then why do you keep questioning my decision?”

Jesse takes a moment to properly take in Hanzo, dressed in nothing but a skimpy little black thong. He bites his lip as he climbs back on, Hanzo’s thighs nestled between his knees as he kneads Hanzo’s ass the same way he wanted to on the beach. His glutes are firm, like every inch of muscle on him is firm, and are ridiculously fun to play with. 

Spreading Hanzo’s cheeks, Jesse eyes the thong sinfully covering his hole and a ragged breath passes his lips, a bead of pre pools at his slit. He might have come on Hanzo half an hour ago, but his dick is more than ready for this.

When Hanzo clears his throat, Jesse is broken from his stupor; his eyes meet Hanzo’s. From over his shoulder, Hanzo raises an eyebrow and looks at his ass.

“Anyone tell you you’ve got the nicest, most perfect ass?” The smirk on Hanzo’s lips is confirmation enough, but before he can retort, Jesse adds, “Just makin’ sure you’re one hundred percent comfortable,” answering his question from earlier.

The smirk on Hanzo’s face eases into a small smile. “And I am.”

Jesse nods, shuffling up and resting his cock on the curve of Hanzo’s ass. In eager anticipation, more pre leaks from him, a nice dollop falls onto the small of Hanzo’s back. If Jesse ain’t lucky, he’ll come right here, right now untouched.

“Okay,” Jesse whispers, his hands sliding up Hanzo’s back to settle on his shoulders. He needs a distraction, and eyeing the messy bun Hanzo’s hair is in, he nods, dragging a hand up, tangling in his hair. “Mind if I let your hair down?”

Hanzo only nods and Jesse unties his hair. He places the hair tie on the nightstand and combs his fingers through Hanzo’s long inky black locks. Incredibly thick and lusciously soft, it would be dead straight if not for the slight wave from being tied up. 

“You are just so fucking perfect,” Jesse breathes, pushing his hair aside and leaning down, pressing his body to Hanzo’s. He kisses his neck gently, licking and sucking the sensitive flesh before rolling his hips against Hanzo. The low rumble of a groan that Hanzo makes is probably the sexiest noise Jesse’s ever heard, and he makes a point to really push down with his hips on the next roll, grinding hard against his ass. 

“So have you ever experimented before?”

Hanzo nods subtly. “I have a toy I have previously used,” he answers, voice breathy.

“That right?” Jesse noses along Hanzo’s jaw, feeling the stubble underneath—the only patch of skin that isn’t smooth. He dots kisses back up his jaw to behind his ear. “So you know what to expect?” Feeling Hanzo chuckle underneath him, he stops grinding and pulls away to get a proper look at his face.

“Do you think that I did not prepare myself for this?” Hanzo arches an eyebrow, bringing his voice down low as he adds, “That I did not imagine you fucking me while I was fucking my fingers?”

Jesse’s stomach drops, his dick twitches as he imagines Hanzo fingering himself  _ while thinking about him.  _ He drops his head onto Hanzo’s shoulder and groans.

“And even if I had not, I  _ know _ what to expect. I am not a virgin.”

“True.” Jesse regains some semblance of composure and kisses Hanzo’s shoulder, dots them all the way to the back of his neck. “But givin’ and acceptin’ are two different experiences.” He kisses down Hanzo’s back, between his shoulder blades and over the bumps of his spine until he’s at the small of his back. “And I’m assumin’ you’ve got a lot of lube?” Jesse pulls away as Hanzo leans over to the nightstand, pulling out the bottle and a condom; leaving that on the nightstand as he places the lube on the bed. 

“And I even  _ cleaned _ , assuming that is your next question.”

Jesse grins, picking up the bottle and holding it in his hand to warm before sweeping back down, resting his chin on the small of Hanzo’s back. “Wasn’t gonna ask.” 

Hanzo scoffs, sliding his arms under the pillow he’s resting his head on.

“A large part of this is relaxing.” Jesse plants a soft kiss to one dimple on Hanzo’s back.  “Tensing will only make it worse.” A soft kiss to the other dimple. He glances and sees Hanzo looking back at him, frown teasing his features. “A toy and a real person are also two different experiences.”

Hanzo takes a deep breath and nods, settling back down. “If you are worried about your size,” he says, completely and utterly nonchalant, “then you have nothing to fear. I can take you.”

Jesse can’t help the small groan that passes his lips, even though he’s sure that’s a backhanded comment about his size. He ignores that, knowing full well Hanzo was impressed the other night and kisses Hanzo’s lower back before grazing his teeth on the flesh. He feels a small quiver from Hanzo underneath him and he smirks, dragging his teeth down and catching the thong between his teeth. Raking his hands up Hanzo’s thighs, he hooks his fingers inside the thong and pulls it down. He notes the faint tan line, a product of his sunbaking and leans down, finding it absolutely necessary to kiss the line along his lower back. Hanzo lifts his hips when Jesse pulls away, and Jesse slides it off. 

When Hanzo adjusts himself, placing a pillow under his groin, Jesse takes a moment to hold out the thong, and a part of him is amazed how something so small can keep everything in place. With a smirk, he drops the underwear to the floor and climbs back on the bed, settling between Hanzo’s thighs. 

He picks up the bottle of lube, rolling it in his hands for a moment before flicking the cap. Holding the bottle in one hand, he spreads Hanzo with the other, biting his lip to keep his volume down when he sees his gorgeous little hole. He adds a small amount of lube to Hanzo’s tailbone, placing the bottle on the bed and spreading Hanzo with his other hand, watching as it drips down and over his entrance. Letting go of Hanzo’s ass only to add lube to two fingers, he closes the cap and places the bottle on the bed within reach. 

Spreading Hanzo again, a ragged moan passes his lips as he sweeps up the lube on his taint back to his hole. He massages the tight ring with his index finger, hearing Hanzo’s long, slow exhale. Without any objection, he presses in slowly, stopping when he feels Hanzo tense around his finger. “Everything okay?”

“Yes,” Hanzo grunts, taking a breath. He relaxes slightly and with a nod, Jesse pushes in until he’s knuckle deep. He holds still, watching Hanzo’s face turn from a frown and relaxed. “I am okay,” he confirms before Jesse has a chance to ask.

“Good. Let me know if that changes. We’re gonna take this slow, and I want to make sure you’re comfortable.” He looks at his finger inside Hanzo and his cock twitches. Tearing his eyes away, he looks back and Hanzo and says, “I’m gonna start slow penetrations. We need to make sure you’re properly lubed before we continue.”

Hanzo nods, and Jesse slowly pulls out his finger. With his thumb, he swipes down Hanzo’s crack, sweeping lube onto his finger before he slowly pushes in again. As he repeats this process, Hanzo times his breathing with each penetration and Jesse can feel him relax with each one.

Content that Hanzo is ready for another finger, he applies more lube to Hanzo’s tailbone, watching as it slicks down to his hole. He catches some on his middle finger and massages his entrance. “I’m gonna add a second finger now.”

Another nod, and Jesse presses in slowly. Hanzo moans, pushing his ass up and before Jesse can blink both fingers are knuckle-deep inside him. Jesse’s breathing hitches and he places a steadying hand on Hanzo’s hip. “All good?”

“You are too slow and I can handle this,” Hanzo mutters, settling back down. 

Jesse smirks, knowing what’ll have him eating his words. He starts a few slow penetrations before increasing his speed slightly. Hanzo rocks his hips minutely, and when he relaxes, Jesse strikes, curling his fingers.

“Jesse!” Hanzo moans, hips bucking. 

“Gotcha,” Jesse breathes, massaging the bundle of nerves with his fingertips. “All good?” he asks again when Hanzo settles back down. When Hanzo’s response is another moan and a nod, he languidly penetrates again, alternating between brushing his fingers on Hanzo’s prostate and scissoring. It takes no time at all for Hanzo to rock his hips again, and they fall into a natural rhythm. 

“I am ready,” Hanzo says after a moment.

Jesse’s stomach flutters and he slides his fingers out, wiping his fingers on the towel on the nightstand. He grabs the condom, unwrapping it and rolling it down his length before applying a generous amount of lube. Holding himself at the base, he spreads Hanzo again with his other hand and massages his entrance with his cock. It twitches under the contact and it’ll be a goddamned miracle if he doesn’t come just pushing in. 

Ignoring his dick, he looks at Hanzo, his eyes are closed and he looks relaxed. A good thing. “I’m gonna push in now, the best thing for you to do is exhale when I do, it’ll relax you and make this easier.”

Hanzo nods, taking a deep breath. When he nods again, Jesse pushes against Hanzo, moaning when he feels how tight he is. The head disappears inside and Jesse pauses only for a moment, and when Hanzo does not object, he pushes in a little more. White hot pleasure burns in his core, coursing through his veins as he feels that delicious drag with each small movement. When he gets to halfway, he stops again when Hanzo buries his face in the pillow.

“You okay?” Jesse breathes, placing both hands on the bed just under Hanzo’s armpits and leans down, kissing his back. 

“This is much more intense than I had thought,” Hanzo mumbles, muffled by the pillow.

A kiss to the nape of his neck. “Good intense or bad intense?”

“Good. So fucking good.”

Jesse smirks, kissing between Hanzo’s shoulder blades. “I ain’t even all the way in.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Hanzo says, glancing over his shoulder and smirking. He pushes back and another inch disappears inside Hanzo, leaving Jesse’s head spinning at how eager Hanzo is.

With a wink, Jesse pushes in a little more, and Hanzo’s eyes flutter closed before he rests his head on the pillow again. He doesn’t object or show any signs of pain, and Jesse only stops when his hips are flush against Hanzo. He leans down, pressing his body to Hanzo’s while kissing his neck. “How are you holding up?” Jesse whispers, planting a kiss behind Hanzo’s ear.

“I am fine.”

With that confirmation, Jesse rolls his hips minutely, eliciting a long, low moan from Hanzo. Jesse feels him tighten and he stops, kissing his neck again. “We can stop.”

“If I wanted you to stop, I would tell you,” Hanzo says immediately. “I am just… adjusting.”

Jesse nods, kissing the back of Hanzo’s neck. He gives Hanzo a good minute, kissing his neck softly, and when that doesn’t work, Jesse asks, “How about I give you a massage? It’ll relax you some.”

“Just like on the beach,” Hanzo says, smirking.

“Yep. I’m gonna have to shift my weight, let me know if it's too much.”  Keeping his movements slow, Jesse brings his knees up and places his hands on Hanzo’s shoulders. Hanzo moans when he digs his thumbs into the muscle, he immediately relaxes and the tension practically melts away. Before Jesse knows it, he’s rolling his hips in time with each knead.

He closes his eyes and focuses on the tightness, the pull and drag he can feel with each minute movement. He knew Hanzo would be tight, but nothing prepared him for this. Tight and the right kind of slippery, each movement is like Heaven, pure ecstasy that leaves him wanting more, wanting to go hard and fast, but he knows that he has to go slow for Hanzo’s sake. 

“I want to look at you.”

Jesse opens his eyes, seeing Hanzo look at him from over his shoulder. “How about you sit in my lap? That way we can go at your pace.” Hanzo’s nod is all the confirmation Jesse needs, he places his hands on the bed and kisses between Hanzo’s shoulder blades once, twice, before withdrawing slowly; Hanzo groans with the movement. Jesse watches as the head of his cock slide out of Hanzo’s ass, leaving a thoroughly puffy and open hole. 

Jesse bites his lip as he sits back, allowing Hanzo to sit up. The pillow has a large pool of pre on it, his cock is rock hard. The pillow is tossed to the floor as Jesse sits on the bed, back against the headboard. He takes a moment to apply a little bit more lube to his erection, placing the bottle on the nightstand. 

On his knees, Hanzo straddles Jesse’s lap, cups his face and kisses him passionately. Jesse loses himself in the kiss, tangling his clean fingers in Hanzo’s hair. When he feels Hanzo’s hand around his dick, he opens his eyes and pulls away, looking into Hanzo’s eyes when he feels himself at his entrance. Transfixed, he watches as Hanzo’s eyes flutter when he pushes in, and moans when Hanzo moans as he sinks down. 

Subtle frown teasing his features, Hanzo looks at Jesse and smiles softly. “This is quite intense.”

“You’ve said,” Jesse replies, sliding a hand up Hanzo’s back to the nape of his neck, stroking softly with his thumb. “Are you okay to continue?”

Nodding, Hanzo cups the back of Jesse’s neck with one hand, the other resting between his shoulder blades. Taking a deep breath, Hanzo rocks his hips slowly and shallowly with his exhale. “It is a different sensation in this position, more pleasurable—” he quivers, huffs a laugh. “Better,” he says, easing into a steady rhythm.  

Jesse smiles, not breaking eye contact with Hanzo as he slides his hands down to Hanzo’s hips, guiding his movements. They don’t kiss, they don’t speak. Moans fade to quiet little grunts and stuttered exhales, filling the otherwise silent room with the sounds of the headboard creaking with each thrust, the squelch of the lube from each penetration. 

With every movement, every roll of Hanzo’s hips, Jesse can feel the wet and velvety smooth slide of Hanzo’s cock on his stomach. Edging closer to orgasm, Jesse fights it, not wanting to come too soon, not wanting to finish before Hanzo. The only tell that Hanzo is close to climaxing is the way his fingernails dig into Jesse’s back, the raggedness of his breaths.

Teetering on the edge of his orgasm, Jesse slides his left hand from Hanzo’s hip to Hanzo’s cock, pulling in time with his thrusts. On his third upstroke, Hanzo’s hips buck and he tightens around Jesse, his eyes flutter closed, his jaw slack as he moans, coming on Jesse’s chest.

Feeling the warm spurt, Jesse looks down and when he sees Hanzo’s come on him, the white streaking his chest his grip on Hanzo’s hip tightens, hips jerk and he falls to orgasm.

He presses kisses to Hanzo’s chest as he comes down from the high. His hands slide up to Hanzo’s waist when Hanzo cups his face and they share a slow and sensual kiss, falling into a natural rhythm just like before, basking in the afterglow. 

Jesse opens his eyes when Hanzo pulls away, his fingers rake down the stubble on Jesse’s jaw. Hanzo shifts his weight and bites his lip as he slips out, exhaling slowly when he stands beside the bed. He wipes himself down with the towel as Jesse slides off the condom, tying it off and wrapping it in a tissue. Before he can look up, Hanzo’s back in his lap with a fresh towel and wiping his chest, then that one’s tossed to the floor as Hanzo climbs off him and lies down beside Jesse on the bed. 

Jesse sinks down, pulling the covers up to their waists. He extends his right arm and Hanzo smiles, nuzzles in closer and rests his head on Jesse’s shoulder. Jesse’s hand settles on Hanzo’s waist and he kisses his head. For a quick fuck, a cheeky little romance—and he’s had his fair share of conquests with holidaying tourists—he can’t say that he’s been this intimate with anyone before.

He can also say he hasn’t been this comfortable around a hook-up before, either.

“Is the aching normal?” Hanzo asks, breaking the silence.

Jesse chuckles, kissing Hanzo’s head again. “Yep. You’ve used muscles in a way you haven’t used ‘em before. It’ll fade with time, don’t worry.”

Hanzo hums, placing a hand on Jesse’s chest. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you, sugar.”

“Have you heard from friends or family yet?”

“Naw, bein’ in Mexico, they’re nineteen hours behind. It ain’t the twenty-eighth for ‘em yet. I’ll probably get a bunch of texts in the middle of the night, though,” he chuckles.

Hanzo hums, kissing Jesse’s chest. “So you will have two days worth of celebrations.”

“Essentially, yeah,” Jesse breathes. “Though this will be the first time I haven’t had my mamá beside me. It’s weird knowin’ I won’t get her  _ Mostachón de Fresa _ .” Then it really hits Jesse, that pang of despair that he knew he’d get eventually hits him: he misses his mamá. Her smile, her cooking, the smell of her perfume. All of it. If only he had enough money to fly her down…

“What is that?”

“Hmm?” Jesse looks at Hanzo, recalls what he said before going off on his tangent. “Oh, it’s a cake. Technically I already had it, she made one the day before I left but she usually only makes ‘em for my birthday. It’s a meringue with biscuit and walnut in it, topped with cream and strawberries. No one makes it like my mamá, it’s got a secret somethin’ in it not even I know that makes it the best damn cake I could ever have.” Jesse sighs, looking listlessly at the white ceiling as he adds, “I don’t know if I’ll even find anything remotely like it here.”

“We have a cake that is similar,” Hanzo says, rubbing his fingertips against Jesse’s chest absently. “We have it at Christmas time, it is a soft cake with layers of cream and strawberries.”

“That sounds delicious. Almost sounds like a  _ Tres Leches _ cake.”

“It is my favourite cake.” Hanzo’s hand stills and it catches Jesse off guard, looking at his hand then at Hanzo, who’s looking up at him. “Tell me about your mother.” Jesse frowns, and before he can think to ask why, Hanzo says, “The joy and elation on your voice describing the cake, coupled with the bitterness when describing working so she did not have to, so she could have a proper life. You sound extremely close to her.”

“She’s my world,” Jesse breathes, settling back down. “She’s the strongest person I know, fuckin’ scary when she’s angry.” Jesse looks at Hanzo, adding, “But she’s the sweetest, kindest woman in the world, always put me first no matter how bad things got, no matter how many times I insisted otherwise.”

Sliding his hand down to Hanzo’s, Jesse grabs his hand. He touches his fingertips to Hanzo’s before pressing their palms together. Jesse’s fingers are longer, but Hanzo’s are the same width. He looks at Hanzo and smiles when Hanzo meets his eyes. His stomach flutters, Hanzo is the first person who has asked about his mamá, about his life. He knows that Hanzo is just a quick romance, but he feels like he can trust him.

“I didn’...” Jesse starts, taking a shaky breath. Hanzo weaves his fingers between Jesse’s, and Jesse smiles, kissing Hanzo’s head. “I didn’t have the best upbringing. I was born into a gang. She tried to keep that life away from me; made sure I went to school, took me to baseball practice three times a week, made sure I did my homework and helped me with school projects. It wasn’t a perfect life, but it was good.

“It caught up to us when my papa was killed. I was eight, Mamá woke me in the middle of the night, no explanation other than ‘we need to go’. I can’t remember how many times I asked where Papa was, but she just kept sayin’ that he’ll find us.” He brings Hanzo’s hand up to his mouth, kisses his knuckles before placing his hand down on his chest. “We leave in the hovercar after five minutes of frantic packing, but the next day we’re picked up by the cops at a routine traffic stop. Before she had me, she was done for a heap of B&Es, public intoxication, drug possession. She was a known member of the gang and was arrested on suspicion of his murder.”

“That is when you found out?”

Jesse nods. “I didn’t quite understand what that meant at the time, short of knowin’ I wouldn’t see him again.” Jesse sighs. “So a deal was made, information about the gang for protection—Mamá thought we were in danger.” He pauses, purses his lips as he looks up at the ceiling. “Kept sayin’ that we were next.”

Jesse recalls the terror he felt at the time, thinking that whatever took his papa would get him, no matter how far they travelled, how well they hid. The panic and fear he felt as that eight-year-old boy hits him like a stab in the gut, and he kisses Hanzo’s head, inhaling and taking in his smell to keep himself grounded.

Hanzo looks up at Jesse, brings his hand up to his face and pushes a stray lock of hair aside. Jesse smiles as the panic fades away, only to be replaced with a wash of anxiety: he’s never been with  _ anyone  _ who has had that calming effect on him. He mentally shakes that off, focusing on the feel of Hanzo’s fingers combing through his hair. When he meets Hanzo’s eyes, Hanzo smiles, asking, “I assume it worked?”

“Yep. She ratted them out and in return we got moved to another city with a ‘thanks for everything’ and a pat on the back,” Jesse says bitterly. He huffs as he looks up at the ceiling again. He thinks about telling Hanzo everything, every little detail of the move. He then realises that it would probably bore Hanzo, so he decides to keep it brief, simple. 

Kissing Hanzo’s head again, Jesse continues, “So we move sixty-five miles away; new lives, new identities. Mamá enrols me into school and I make new friends. Fast forward six years an’ old gang members start showin’ up dead. I’d just started my freshman year of high school, things were starting to return to normal, but Mamá didn’t wanna take the risk. And just like that, she makes the decision to move again. After debating on whether to move in with family in Baja or stay in the States, we compromise: moved to SoCal, close enough to family so if shit got real tough we could jump the border, but still in the States so I could finish school.”

“Is that where you started your lifeguard career?”

Jesse chuckles. “Yep. I remember the first time I saw a beach. There aren’t any in New Mexico and Mamá didn’t have enough money for us to go on holidays. I’d only seen them in pictures, but nothin’ prepared me for the feel of the salt air on my skin, the sand between my toes. I fell in love, found my true calling. I’d go twice a week after school. I learned to swim, watched the lifeguards and I knew that that’s what I wanted to do with my life, so I volunteered.”

Jesse’s smile fades, he purses his lips and turns his head, his nose brushes against Hanzo’s hairline. “Volunteering wasn’t getting us anywhere. Mamá was workin’ two jobs, we were livin’ in a one-bedroom piece of shit little apartment in the worst part of town. It was dangerous; we lived in an area where if I did anythin’ wrong, gave someone the wrong look, acted in any way suspicious, the cops would get called and I’d get my ass hauled to jail. It’d be turned into a massive thing when it should have been treated as a minor offence, if that. I saw it enough with other kids in the area. 

“Mamá kept me safe though; no playin’ outside after dark, always in contact when at a friend’s house. Meanwhile, I was constantly wonderin’ if she was okay walkin’ the streets at night, movin’ from one shitty diner to the next to keep us afloat. I begged her to let me pick up part-time work but she refused.”

Jesse pauses, inhaling and exhaling slowly. This probably ain’t what Hanzo had in mind when he asked about his mamá, but it seems natural to tell Hanzo his life story. 

“That’s why when I finally graduated, I convinced her to move to Mexico. She’d done so much for me already, it was my time to pick up the slack. She worked one job when we moved, then started up a little bakery with her sisters. Said that it wasn’t a job cause she got to bake all day. All my wages went into making sure she was well looked after, and when I finally told her that I’d wanted to travel the world, she showed me that all the money I’d been givin’ to her, she’d saved it all to give back to me eventually.” Jesse chokes back a sob and smiles. “I had enough money for the move, a year’s worth of rent and spendin’ money.” He kisses Hanzo on the head, whispering, “And here I am.”

“She sounds like a courageous woman.”

“Bravest woman in the world. Ain’t anyone out there tougher than my mamá.” 

They fall into a comfortable silence, a lull in the conversation. Hanzo starts drawing patterns on Jesse’s chest again, it takes Jesse a moment to realise that it’s a repeating figure eight over and over. 

“How about you?” Jesse asks after a moment. “What’s life for you like?”

Hanzo’s fingers stop moving, and there is a brief moment of dead silence. Jesse strokes Hanzo’s shoulder with his thumb, which seems to do the job to prompt him to talk. “Life is difficult. It may be privileged, but outside my studies, I work alongside my father. A typical day starts at five a.m. with two hours of swimming, one hour of  _ ninjutsu _ , class, an hour of  _ kyudo, _ working beside my father, homework and then bed at eleven p.m.; only to start it all over again the next day. Meanwhile, Genji plays basketball, goes to the arcade, and is given a pass on his average grades. He lives a life he wants, I live a life dictated by my father, so I can succeed him.”

“Shit, I didn’t know, Hanzo. I’m sorry.” Hanzo only hums and draws the figure eight pattern on Jesse’s chest again. When the silence stretches, Jesse asks, “You can’t talk to your father about wantin’ more freedom to do what you want?”

Hanzo huffs a laugh. “I like my head where it is, thank you very much.”

“He don’t beat on you—”

“No,” Hanzo says quickly, “he likes to give lectures about how difficult life is. How he was not afforded the same freedoms I am when he was my age. That if I were in his shoes I would not have survived his life.” 

“No offence, but he sounds like a prick.”

“He can be,” Hanzo chuckles, “but he is my father, and I must do as he wishes.”

Jesse inhales and exhales slowly. They might have lives on opposite ends of the spectrum, a life of privilege versus a life of poverty, but that don’t make Hanzo’s situation any less sympathetic than Jesse’s own. He reaches for the champagne flutes on the nightstand, handing Hanzo his before Jesse grabs his own. He holds up his glass, toasting, “To our shit upbringings,” before clinking Hanzo’s glass and drinking what remains. 

Hanzo sits up, drinking the rest of his and placing the empty glass on the nightstand. With a cheeky grin, Hanzo climbs out of bed and holds out his hand. “We should shower. And perhaps we should find something to eat for lunch.”

Jesse hums and smiles, taking Hanzo’s hand and following him into the bathroom.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish to extend a massive thanks to Faiahae for the info regarding Jesse's background and upbringing.
> 
> Cakes? Cakes!! [Mostachón de Fresa](https://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/marcela-valladolid/strawberry-meringue-cake-mostachon-recipe-2042601) | [Tres Leches cake](https://tastesbetterfromscratch.com/tres-leches-cake/) | [Strawberry Shortcake](https://www.ricardocuisine.com/en/recipes/5714-strawberry-shortcake-the-best)
> 
> And you might have noticed that the chapter count has gone up! Chapter six started to get a little out of hand, and I didn't want to rush through the conclusion of the story, so I gave it its own chapter ^_^


	6. Blinding Attraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for more public encounters in this chapter. And Hanzo's one helluva cowboy kink.

_ >>Martin Place. Look for the highlighter. _

“The fuck does that mean?” Jesse asks, looking around the open pedestrian mall. A light drizzle patters on their shared umbrella; a reprieve from the driving rain, if only for the moment. He looks at the text from Genji on Hanzo’s phone again. “He always this cryptic?”

“Usually when he has done something he knows I will not approve of,” Hanzo replies flatly, inhaling and exhaling deeply. He glances around and Jesse looks into the crowd, thinking of what Genji _could_ have meant by that; his mind supplying him with a lifesized neon yellow highlighter, or perhaps a regular highlighter lying around somewhere which’ll lead to clues to find him. Excitement sparks through Jesse, he loves scavenger hunts—

“No.”

Jesse frowns, looking at Hanzo.

“No. That cannot be him.”

Jesse follows Hanzo’s gaze, seeing someone leaning against the wall on one shoulder, back to them with neon green hair. Jesse looks at their clothes, and they’re wearing the same pair of distressed jeans and red hoodie Genji left in this morning. “And now the highlighter comment now makes sense.”

“I am going to kill him before my parents get the chance,” Hanzo seethes, storming off into the rain.

Jesse jogs to catch up with Hanzo, sheltering him under the umbrella again and maintains long strides—Hanzo can certainly walk fast when he wants to.

Hearing their heavy footsteps splash in the puddles, the person with the green hair turns around, Genji’s grinning face greets them.

“Hi _anija_! Like what I’ve done—” Hanzo punches Genji in the arm, and the way his grin turns into a look of utter shock and how fast he brings his hand up to his arm to rub the spot, it must have been hard. “—Fuck you too!”

“Why?” Hanzo asks, equal parts disappointed and defeated. “Why would you do this?”

“I hated the feel of my hair on my back and neck. It was too hot.”

“The cut I understand. The colour is something else entirely.”

“Black is boring, _anija_.”

“Genji… If I am punished for _your_ horrid decision, I will never forgive you.”

Genji rolls his eyes and folds his arms across his chest. “They _know_ we would not be joined at the hip. You are not my babysitter.”

Grumbling something under his breath that Jesse can’t quite catch, suspecting he’s speaking in Japanese, Hanzo looks from Genji to Jesse, then back to Genji again. “We went our separate ways shopping.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, usual cover,” Genji says absently to his phone. “Can we go get lunch? I’m starving!” Before either of them can answer, Genji’s walking inside the mall. With a huff, Hanzo wraps his arm around Jesse’s waist and leads him inside.

“So uh… ‘usual cover’?”

“For the times I would hook up with people while holidaying with my parents.”

“So this wasn’t a once off?”

Hanzo looks at Jesse and smirks. “Far from it. I had intended on sleeping with an Australian, but between you and the other angry, skinny lifeguard, I made my choice.”

“He ain’t your type either,” Jesse chuckles, wrapping an arm around Hanzo’s shoulders and pulling him in close. He loves the way Hanzo fits under his arm.

“He is twitchy and behaves like a child.”

“You gathered that from the small interaction you had with him?”

“He talked down his nose at us,” he looks at Jesse, smirking, “and _no one_ talks down their nose at us. He is lucky you were there.”

“Hold up now, Junkrat might be annoying, but he was just doing his job. That’s no reason to start something.”

Hanzo snorts. “Junkrat?”

“Jamie. Junkrat’s his nickname.”

“And yours?”

Jesse sighs, closing his eyes. “Cowboy.” Hearing Hanzo hum in that ‘I like what I see’ way, he opens his eyes and Hanzo is looking him up and down. “Yes, I can imagine you with a cowboy hat, boots with spurs.” He pauses, smiling wider as he stares at Jesse’s legs. “Chaps.”

“If you dressed like that hobo,” Genji calls from ahead of them, talking as loud as he possibly can, and Jesse knows this isn’t going to go down well, “I am sure Hanzo would cream his pants.” He turns around, grinning from ear to ear as he adds, “Hanzo has a _massive_ cowboy fetish.”

Jesse glances at Hanzo who—to Jesse’s immense surprise—is actually smirking! “He is not wrong,” Hanzo says, eyes meeting Jesse’s. “It was not just your looks that attracted me to you.”

“Really now?” Jesse asks, waggling his eyebrows.

“Your voice, your accent… It is like listening to an old western movie.”

Just as Genji rounds a corner, Jesse turns, facing Hanzo and pulling him in close. He leans in, his nose brushes against his ear as he says, voice low and husky and absolutely making sure he accentuates his vowels, “I’m your huckleberry.”

He practically feels Hanzo’s knees weaken, holding him tight in case he actually _does_ fall. Hanzo’s hands cup Jesse’s face and he’s pulled in for a heated kiss, and only realises he is moving when his back hits the wall, Hanzo’s leg pressed to his crotch.  

“Shit… You weren’t kiddin’... Were you?” he says between kisses. Hanzo only hums, continues kissing, his hands trailing all over Jesse’s body. He looks where they are when Hanzo moves onto kissing his neck, and somehow, thankfully, there is no one around. Though, he can hear the _ding_ of an elevator around the corner Genji took and he can see the bathrooms opposite them.

Placing his hands on Hanzo’s chest and pushing him back to get his attention, Jesse smirks when Hanzo’s response is a scowl before saying, “Bathroom’s right over there if you’re game.”

Hanzo answers by taking Jesse’s hand and leading him straight into the men’s room. He enters the farthest stall from the door, drags Jesse inside and slams the door shut, something that can only be done by getting cosy with the toilet. Once the door is closed though, Hanzo pulls out a small bottle of lube from his hoodie pocket that Jesse was completely unaware he’d packed. He undoes his jeans, hiking them and his and underwear down before lubing up two fingers. Before Jesse can even register what is happening, Hanzo’s reaching behind himself, moaning as he braces himself on the stall with his free hand.

“Christ,” Jesse hisses through his teeth, watching the display in front of him. “You sure you’re up for—oof!” Jesse is pushed backwards and falls on the thankfully closed toilet. He gets the hint as Hanzo stalks forward, dick in hand. Leaning in to meet Hanzo’s height, Jesse takes Hanzo’s cock in his hand when Hanzo lets go and pumps. A ragged breath escapes his lips, heat sparks in his core and ripples through him. He looks up at Hanzo, winks before licking his lips and taking Hanzo in his mouth, encircling his glans before sliding up and down.

Hanzo moans loudly, apparently intent on letting _the entire mall_ know what is happening in this stall right now. Not that Jesse cares in the slightest; that public sex kink he didn’t realise he had till two days ago kicks into overdrive, and it’s not long before he’s struggling out of his jeans one handed to get his throbbing dick free.

Stroking to match his sucking, he hollows his cheeks, creating suction that has Hanzo moaning and cussin’ in Japanese. He eases up on that, swirls his tongue around the head before continuing to bob up and down.

Jesse hums when he feels Hanzo’s hand on top of his. He pulls away with a wet slurp, breathing deep as Hanzo takes him by the wrist. Jesse’s hand is turned palm up, and with his other hand, Hanzo reaches into his hoodie pocket to retrieve the bottle of lube, flicking the cap open and pouring a glob on Jesse’s index finger. The bottle disappears back into his pocket and Hanzo pulls Jesse’s hand around and behind Hanzo. Jesse bites his lip in anticipation, feeling his finger push against Hanzo’s entrance, joining Hanzo’s other two fingers.

“Fucking _Christ!”_ Jesse hisses, feeling the tightness around his finger. He squeezes his dick in an attempt not to come right now, and takes Hanzo in his mouth again for something else to focus on, but doesn’t do much other than lick over his slit.

Sensory overload starting to plateau, Jesse loosens his grip on himself and continues tugging, matching the shallow, languid penetrations. He bobs up and down Hanzo’s dick at the same pace, sliding down further and further until his nose is pressed against Hanzo’s skin and he’s swallowing around him.

Feeling Hanzo quiver, Jesse wonders if he’s going to come, but before he can ask, he hears Hanzo’s ragged voice, “Fuck me, Jesse.”

Jesse comes off Hanzo’s dick and stands as best he can with a finger in Hanzo’s ass, kissing him with burning desire. His hand is pulled from Hanzo and Hanzo presses the bottle of lube and a condom into his palm. As fast as he can, Jesse hikes down his jeans and underwear, rolls on the condom and lubes up as Hanzo kicks off his shoe to get out of his jeans. The second one leg is out, Jesse doesn’t waste any more time, picking up Hanzo and pushing him against the door of the stall; causing it to rattle and creak loudly. Not that Jesse cares.

Hanzo grins, wrapping his arms and legs around Jesse as he lines himself at Hanzo’s entrance. He pushes in slowly, and three fingers seem to have done the trick as Hanzo is not as tight as this morning. He kisses Hanzo again with burning desire, his languid thrusts increase in speed as he starts to lose control. Hanzo moans, his grip around Jesse tightens and he whispers in his ear, “Speak for me.”

Jesse shudders, feeling Hanzo’s exhale against his ear. He slowly pushes in all the way ‘til hips are pressed against Hanzo’s ass and grinds against him. “What do you want me to say?”

“Pretend you are a cowboy.”

Jesse smirks, waggling his eyebrows. Hanzo _definitely_ has a cowboy kink, and he makes a mental note to somehow get Hanzo in his apartment to show him his collection of flannel shirts and old west cowboy movies. He starts up slowly again, bringing his voice down low and husky like before, “I tried bein’ reasonable. Didn’t take to it.”

Hanzo moans, cupping Jesse’s face and kissing him passionately. Their tongues slide against each other, rushed and desperate between moans and pants. The kiss doesn’t slow naturally, just stops as Hanzo pulls away, looking at Jesse with a slight grin on his face. “More,” he orders.

“I’m not good...”

Hanzo’s head falls back against the door. “More.”

“...Not bad…”

“Jesse!”

“...But I sure as hell ain’t ugly.”

Hanzo moans, pulls up his shirt and takes his cock in his hand. “Faster.”

Already going as fast as he’s comfortable, he increases his speed slightly, and Hanzo only scowls.

“Harder!”

Sure that Hanzo is wrapped tight enough around him, and confident that Hanzo would say something if things got painful, Jesse grabs the top of the door as leverage, thrusting harder. Hanzo bounces with each thrust, the door shakes, the cubicle creaks. Skin slaps against skin, Hanzo’s moaning echoes off the tiles.

When they had sex earlier, if Jesse had to pick a word for it, it’d be ‘beautiful’. It wasn’t sex, it was love-making. This… This is almost animalistic. Rushed. _Loud_ … And Jesse wouldn’t have it any other way.

Jesse studies Hanzo’s face, and when he sees Hanzo look at him through hooded eyes, when he feels Hanzo tighten around his cock, Jesse whispers, “It’s high noon.”

Hanzo moans something in Japanese as his back arches off the door, and Jesse has to place a steadying hand on his ass to stop him from sliding down. Jesse feels the constriction and watches Hanzo come into his hand, unable to contain the moan that bursts from his lips. It only takes three more thrusts for Jesse to come, head pressed against Hanzo’s, moaning Hanzo’s name over and over until the only noise in the bathroom is his ragged breathing.

Feeling Hanzo leave a trail of kisses from his cheek to his neck, Jesse looks at the white-knuckled grip of his right hand on the door, letting go and flexing his fingers to ease the ache. He brings his hand down, cupping Hanzo’s ass and spreading his weight between both hands as he plants a kiss on Hanzo’s forehead, the tip of his nose then his lips before pulling away to look at Hanzo, smiling.

Hanzo raises an eyebrow, smirk teasing his lips. “I am certain you got most of those quotes wrong.”

Jesse chuckles. “Ain’t seen those movies in a long time.” Hanzo lessens his grip around Jesse’s waist and Jesse pulls back, sliding out. When Hanzo’s feet are back on the ground, Jesse adds, “I’m surprised you have.”

Keeping his shoeless foot hovering in the air, Hanzo leans for the toilet paper dispenser, pulling out a wad. He wipes his hand, tosses the paper in the toilet and pulls out another wad. “I used to watch them all the time as a child. I was always fascinated by the American remakes of classic Japanese films.” He cleans himself up and Jesse turns his attention to his own dick, rolling off the condom and tying it up before wrapping it up in toilet paper.

“They must have been dated. They’re over a hundred years old now.”

“Horribly so, but they were enjoyable nonetheless.” Hanzo tosses the paper into the toilet and slides his leg back into his jeans, pulling them and his underwear up. He slides back into his shoe after he does up his jeans.  

Jesse pulls up his jeans, rolls down his shirt and hooks his elbow around Hanzo’s neck, pulling him in for a slow kiss. He hears the click of the lock and pulls away from Hanzo so he can move closer to the toilet to open the door. The toilet self-flushes behind them and Jesse breathes a sigh of relief that the room is still empty, tosses the wrapped condom in the trash and washes his hands in the sink next to Hanzo.

They walk out of the bathroom holding hands, and the first person they spot is Genji, phone in one hand, bag of take-out McDonald's in the other. He glances up, rolls his eyes and slides his phone in his pocket. “I am sure I do not need to remind you that you are in a public place,” he intones, pushing off the wall. “And I am also sure that every person in this mall heard you. _I_ heard you when I left and heard you when I got back.” He approaches, poking a finger into Jesse’s chest. “ _Thank you very much for that._ ”

“Don’t know why you’re blamin’ me,” Jesse retorts, “you’re the one who brought up the kink in the first place.”

Genji rolls his eyes. “I am going back to the food court to eat my lunch. You can eat what you wish.”

Jesse watches as Genji stalks away, he frowns and turns to Hanzo. “Why did he even come back?”

“I don’t know—” Hanzo starts, exasperation carrying on his tone.

“ _Someone_ had to stop people from being exposed to _that_ ,” Genji calls from over his shoulder. He turns, adding, “I’ll be hearing your desperate moans for the rest of my life,” before turning back around.

Hanzo huffs, rolling his eyes as he looks at Jesse. The frown instantly falls from his face, replaced with a small smile. With a shrug, he asks, “McDonald's?”

Jesse smiles and nods, draping his arm over Hanzo’s shoulders and following Genji.

* * *

“Tell me about your roommate.”

Jesse glares at Genji. He knows Genji will make a fuss, he knows Genji will make a scene and he _knows_ Genji will hit on her. But Hanzo extended the invitation to her when Jesse mentioned that they were going to spend the night doing a bar crawl. When she was asked if she wanted to go clubbing instead, she immediately agreed, practically bouncing at the opportunity to have a ‘proper night off’, claiming she hasn’t had one in months.

“She’s a student at UNSW, in the third year of her medical degree.”

“Is she hot?”

Jesse winces. “I don’t like the thought of you flirting with her,” he answers, tone stern.

Genji raises an eyebrow and looks at Hanzo. “She’s hot,” Genji says, shit eating grin on his face.

“She’s—”

“Jesse!”

Jesse turns, seeing Angie walk up. He smiles, looking at her neatly done up hair, her red dress. Extending his arms, she practically runs the rest of the distance, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Happy birthday,” she whispers, kissing his cheek.

“Thanks, darlin’.”

She takes a step back and looks between Hanzo and Genji. “You must be Hanzo,” she says, looking at him. He bows his head and extends his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.” She turns her attention to Genji, and Jesse can’t help but smirk when she frowns at his hair.

Undeterred, Genji takes a step forward, extending his hand. “Genji. The more _handsome_ brother.” She smiles, taking his hand and before Jesse can even blink, her hand is up to Genji’s mouth and he’s kissing her knuckles.

Jesse rolls his eyes at Genji’s over-the-top display and does a double take, noticing Angie’s red cheeks which practically match her dress along with her giggling.

“My name is Angela.”

“A beautiful name!” Genji exclaims. There is a moment where Jesse holds his breath and expects a cheesy ‘did you fall from heaven’ pick up line, and is one hundred percent surprised that it never comes. Instead, they sickeningly make googly-eyes at each other.

“Shall we go inside?” Hanzo asks.

“ _Please,”_ Jesse practically begs, at the same time Genji says, “Yep.” Genji offers his elbow to Angela, who giggles more and takes it. Jesse didn’t warn her about Genji’s promiscuous ways, a part of him supposes she’s old enough to look after herself but another part feels like he should have. If one thing is for certain, if Genji does _anything_ in any way to hurt or offend her, he will have words with him.

“He will not behave around her like he did with that other couple,” Hanzo whispers, like he heard Jesse’s thoughts.

“Oh?” Jesse looks at Hanzo, completely sceptical.

“He will be a perfect gentleman.”

“Didn’t think that was possible.”

Hanzo chuckles beside him, and they stop only for a moment as Genji flashes the card while keeping Angie’s eyes on him. The doors are opened and they follow behind, Jesse stares at the back of Genji’s head and practically bores a hole in his skull.

Just like the other night, Jesse feels the thumping bass in his chest and he takes a deep, shuddering breath as they round the corner, seeing the people dancing on the floor, and just like the other night they approach the closed-off section of the corner of the room, sitting at the same couches.

This time, Genji joins Hanzo to get drinks, leaving Jesse with Angela. He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms over his chest in an attempt to be disapproving, but can’t seem to hide the smirk which teases his lips. When she meets him with a better staredown, he caves and chuckles. “I know I don’t need to give you the talk.”

“I was going to say, if you did, then that would make _you_ a hypocrite.”

“Ain’t gonna deny that,” Jesse says easily, slinking down the couch. “You’re an adult, you can look after yourself.”

Angie stands up and takes a seat next to Jesse, draping her arm over his shoulder. “I like that we’ve only known each other for six weeks, and you’ve easily assumed the ‘older brother’ role, even though you are younger.”

“Six weeks?” Jesse breathes, looking at Angie. The first thing he did when he made the decision to move was to find a place. Angie had the spare room, which was perfect given how close it is to the beach, and the fact that the room was cheaper than anything else in the area. He contacted her immediately and their friendship blossomed almost instantly. He kisses her head, adding, “It’s in my nature, lookin’ out for everyone.”

Nodding, Angie kisses his cheek. “I do appreciate it.”

Genji and Hanzo return, Genji holding two glasses of white wine, handing one to Angela. She stands up and joins Genji on the opposite couch as Hanzo takes a seat next to Jesse.

“Bourbon,” Hanzo says, and Jesse extends his hand for the glass. “Aged ten years.”

Jesse whistles, smelling the alcohol. “Top shelf?”

“Of course.”

Jesse smirks, taking a sip. He lets the alcohol sit on his tongue for a moment before swallowing. “Fuck, that’s nice.”

Taking his own sip, Hanzo hums. “I would not expect anything less.”

“So uh…” Jesse trails off, sideways glancing at Genji as he places a hand on Angie’s bare shoulder. He shakes his head and turns in his seat, giving Hanzo his full attention. “So, do you go on many vacations?”

“Once or twice a year,” Hanzo answers, resting his arm on the back of the couch. “During university holidays I accompany my father on business ventures.”

“So you see a lot of the world?”

Hanzo nods, taking a sip of his drink. “Usually, I have a reputation to maintain. When holidaying with my parents over the last couple of years, I had to sneak around.” He smirks, adding, “I am not usually this uninhibited.”

“I kinda like uninhibited you.”

Chuckling, Hanzo looks into his drink. “As do I,” he replies, taking another sip. He looks at Genji, and Jesse follows his gaze. Angie’s in the middle of some story and Genji is just looking at her, grinning and obviously pleased with his current situation. To his credit, it seems that he is indeed being a perfect gentleman. “This is one of the last times I will have to truly be myself.”

Jesse looks back at Hanzo, noticing the sadness, the bitterness in his words. He brings a hand up to his face, stroking his cheek with his thumb. “Well, how about instead of dwellin’ on what little time you have to be yourself, you _actually_ be yourself.” Jesse looks at what remains in his glass and drinks the lot before placing his glass on the table, standing up and extending his hand.

Hanzo looks at him, then his hand, then back up again. “I think it is a little early to end the night.”

Chuckling and shaking his head, Jesse replies, “I’m not sayin’ we fuck, I’m sayin’ we dance.”

Eyes wide, Hanzo looks over his shoulder to the dancefloor for a moment before looking at Jesse again. “No, I do not dance.”

“I don’t either,” Jesse says quickly, “but it looks like fun.”

When Hanzo grins, Jesse knows his powers of persuasion have worked. Hanzo finishes the rest of his drink and places the empty glass on the table before taking Jesse’s hand. Jesse leads him onto the dancefloor, just on the outside with enough space between everyone else so they don’t bump into them.

Though now that Jesse’s actually on the dancefloor, his nerves get the better of him. He looks at everyone around them, then over to Genji and Angie, both of whom have the biggest grins on their faces. Giving them a nod, he turns his attention back to Hanzo who at the very least is bobbing his head and swaying to the beat, which helps to ease Jesse’s anxiety mildly. He should have had another drink at the very least before attempting this.

“Smile,” Hanzo says, leaning in. “Your movements are stiff, you need to relax.”

That gets Jesse smiling. He relaxes, and that’s when he does notice that his shoulders and back were tense. “I thought you said you didn’t dance.”

“How else did you think I obtained conquests?” Hanzo smirks, looking Jesse up and down. “Did you not obtain such skills when you worked as a bartender?”

“I worked behind the bar, not on the floor. And I was happy for that, thank you very much.”

Hanzo raises an eyebrow, takes a step forward and places his hands on Jesse’s waist. “Surely you must have picked up _something_.”

Jesse shrugs, then finds himself swaying to the beat of the music, guided by Hanzo. He’d be lying if he never imagined himself dancing with some hot guy while he was working, wondering what it felt like bumping and grinding and kissing in such an open space, for all the world to see.

The song being played crossfades into another song Jesse instantly recognises as something incredibly suggestive. The mood of the club changes and suddenly partners are closer together, dancing is a little more risqué… and Jesse’s spotted the first hand disappear up someone’s dress.     

Turning his attention back to Hanzo, he rests his forearms on Hanzo’s shoulders, linking his hands. He’s not nearly drunk enough to be _that_ forward in public. Though his mind wanders, imagining himself grinding against Hanzo, sliding his hands up and down his body, grabbing his ass and palming him. He shudders with excitement, looking back at Hanzo and noticing the fluidity of his swaying, how he adds a subtle roll of his hips, causing Hanzo to grind against him.

“And you say you don’t dance.”

Hanzo’s movements don’t falter, if anything it encourages him more, as the hip roll is now a full body roll. “By this stage, I have made my moves and I am getting acquainted in _other_ ways,” Hanzo says, winking and grinning. One of his hands trails up Jesse’s chest to curl around the back of his neck, pulling him down into a kiss.

Jesse moans softly, laying his palms flat on Hanzo’s back and pulling him in close. He wonders if it’s rude to Genji and Angie to call it a night now, to have Hanzo call the limo and go back to the hotel so they can properly fuck.

Moaning again when he feels Hanzo’s tongue slide against his, Jesse’s hands trail down to Hanzo’s ass, grabbing handfuls of the muscle. It takes all of his willpower not to lift Hanzo up, walk him to the nearest wall and grind into him. Instead, he gets a leg between Hanzo’s and pushes on Hanzo’s ass. Hanzo gets the hint, gyrates against Jesse’s thigh in time to the music.

When Jesse can feel Hanzo’s hardness, he moans, his dick twitches. He slides one hand up Hanzo’s back to tangle in his tied up hair, keeping him close. He couldn’t care less who’s watching them, how heated things are getting or the fact that he’s sober enough that he should be embarrassed at this public display. Public displays of affection were something he was _constantly_ exposed to when he was bartending, and he’ll be damned if he’s gonna give up on this opportunity.  

When the song changes again into something more upbeat, the kiss recedes and Hanzo takes a step back. Jesse smiles at Hanzo’s swollen, spit-slicked lips, then licks his own; his probably look about as bad as that.

Hanzo grins, bites his bottom lip before stalking forward, standing on his toes as he combs his fingers through Jesse’s hair. “I want nothing more than to fuck you,” Hanzo whispers in Jesse’s ear. Heat pools in Jesse’s core, his dick twitches again. “But I do not wish for this evening to end just yet.”

Groaning, Jesse looks at Hanzo and smiles. He’ll take the upstairs room again if it means fucking Hanzo right now, but Jesse suspects that’s not what he has in mind. “Another drink?”

With a nod, Hanzo takes Jesse’s hand and they walk to the bar. Hanzo looks at Jesse and smirks, and when the bartender approaches them, Hanzo states, “Two martinis, dry and with a twist. Stirred.”

Jesse chuckles, leaning on the bar. “Can’t get enough of the drink?”

“It is a good drink.”

Humming, Jesse turns his attention to the bartender and can’t help but watch him with a critical eye. His skill seems good, he manages to get a nice twirl of lemon on the first peel, and hangs it on the rim with no effort. The glasses are placed down and Hanzo picks one up, Jesse the other and Hanzo nods before walking back to the couches with Angie and Genji.   

“Having fun?” Genji asks, grinning from ear to ear as Jesse sits down.

“Night’s been good so far,” Jesse answers, taking a sip of the martini. “Hmm, not bad.”

“Not as good as yours,” Hanzo adds.

Jesse chuckles, takes another sip and lets the alcohol sit on his tongue for a moment before swallowing. “Yeah, I guess I made it a little drier than this.”

“And it was made by these hands,” Hanzo says, grabbing Jesse’s left hand and kissing his knuckles.

Jesse can’t help but smile, even though he covers his mouth with his glass to hide his bashfulness. He takes another sip and keeps his eyes on his and Hanzo’s joined hands.

“You’ll easily dry hump each other _in_ _full public view_ , but a single compliment and you’re embarrassed? Really hobo?”

Eyes snapping to meet Genji’s, Jesse retorts, “Some of us ain’t comfortable with compliments. ‘Sides, I saw you out there the other day, don’t pretend you didn’t make us watch _your_ very public display of affection with not one, but _two_ people.”

Genji merely shrugs, smug grin on his face which turns to panic when Angie exclaims from beside him, “Two?!”

Jesse can’t help but snicker as Genji goes about explaining his behaviour to Angie, and he barks a laugh when she goes full doctor on his ass and starts talking about the dangers of STIs. He leaves them be, turning his attention back to Hanzo. “That’ll keep him busy for the next little while.”

Hanzo nods, weaving his fingers between Jesse’s. “Would you like to do more dancing after this drink?”

Jesse smirks, glancing at the dancefloor. “Not really. If those two,” Jesse starts, eyes flitting to Angie and Genji, he does a double take when Genji sweeps Angie’s bangs behind her ear. He shakes his head, turning his attention back to Hanzo. “If they end up dancing, I’d like to get a  little _cosy_ here.”

Hanzo flashes a devilish grin over the top of his glass. “So naughty,” he says, taking a sip.

Leaning forward, Jesse whispers in Hanzo’s ear, “I’ve got a semi which I’m certain ain’t goin’ anywhere anytime soon,” before grazing his teeth on Hanzo’s earlobe and biting down gently. He smirks when he hears Hanzo’s stuttering exhale, and pushes it further by sucking on his earlobe. The grip on Jesse’s hand tightens to the point of painful, and the groan that Hanzo gives all but turns his semi into a raging boner. “I fucking love the noises you make,” Jesse says. He pulls away, looking at Hanzo who’s looking back at him through hooded eyes.

“You have an innate ability to make me lose my composure. No one has ever achieved this.”

Jesse smiles, shrugs it off. “Just bein’ myself.”

“If you keep this up, we will have to call it a night early.”

“Oh, I’m more than happy callin’ it a night if it means I get to have you for a third time today.” Jesse places his glass on the table and turns slightly so he’s facing Hanzo. He cups the back of his neck, pulls him in for a searing kiss. Not holding back, he rolls his tongue, sliding it against Hanzo’s. He hears Hanzo whimper, and the grip on his hand loosens, only to feel Hanzo’s hand cupping his crotch.

Hanzo digs the heel of his palm into his erection, moans between breaths. Hanzo pulls away only for a moment to place his glass on the table and just as quickly his tongue is back in Jesse’s mouth, his other hand tangled in Jesse’s hair.    

“I can’t…” Jesse starts, between kisses. “...We’re not… Goin’ back… To… Dancing.”

Hanzo hums, eases on the kissing. He bites Jesse’s bottom lip before pulling away, though still close enough that their foreheads are pressed together.

“I want nothin’ more than for you to fuck me,” Jesse says, voice low and breathy. “I wanna feel you inside me, and I don’t think I can wait anymore.”

He feels Hanzo nod, press one kiss to the corner of his mouth before he pulls away fully. He picks up his martini, drinks the lot before setting the empty glass on the table. Jesse does the same, glances at Genji and Angie and it seemed they followed his and Hanzo’s lead, they’re making out, his hands on her shoulder and neck, one of her hands is cupping his face, the other quite high on his inner thigh.

Looking away immediately, he stands when Hanzo does, and thankfully that’s enough for Genji to notice them as he pulls away from Angie.

“We are heading back to the hotel,” Hanzo states, standing by Jesse’s side and wrapping an arm around his waist.

“With the way you were feeling him up,” Genji says, glancing at Jesse, “I’m not surprised.”

Hanzo huffs, tightens his grip around Jesse. “I will send the driver back here if you wish to stay.”

Genji looks at Angie, then back to Hanzo. “Yeah, I don’t think either of us need to hear you having sex. I’ve heard it once and that’s one time too many.” He throws his head back, moaning, “Hanzo! _Hannnnzooo!_ ” before laughing like it’s the funniest thing in the world.

Angela joins in on the laughter, then turns her attention to Jesse, looking at him with joyous surprise written all over her face. “When was this?”

“Today,” Genji groans. “In the bathroom at the mall.”

“Jesse!” Angela scolds. “I am sure I don’t have to remind you that public restrooms are filthy places.”

Jesse shoots Genji a glare, and if looks could kill, he’d be dead before he hit the ground. “Fuck you, Genji.”

“Ugh, no thanks!” Genji visibly shudders. He looks at Hanzo, flicks his head to the door. “Go, we’ll be back later. Put a tie or sock or something on the door so we will if you’re still fucking.” And with that, he turns his attention back to Angela, places a hand on her upper thigh and sweeps her hair behind her ear again.

Jesse rolls his eyes, turns and leads Hanzo out of the nightclub. The humid air hits Jesse in the face, thick and almost suffocating with all the rain Sydney’s gotten over the last day. The good thing is it’s finally stopped, and hopefully it’ll stay that way. It’s been over twenty-four hours without the sun and the lack of sunshine is taking its toll on Jesse.

“The driver will be five minutes.”

Jesse nods, hums as they stand to the side of the doors. Hanzo leans against the wall, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets and Jesse leans against it on one shoulder. He looks at Hanzo, eyes on the bare skin of his exposed chest then down further, to the slight bulge in his trousers. Jesse’s stomach flips as he has a wicked idea.

Standing in front of Hanzo, Jesse leans down, running his nose along the shell of Hanzo’s ear. He feels Hanzo’s hands slide up his waist. “When we’re inside the car, I’m gonna suck your dick so hard you’ll see stars.” He smirks when he feels Hanzo grab his shirt. “I can’t wait to have you in my mouth, to taste you, to feel your dick slide down my throat.”

“Jesse…” Hanzo groans, burying his head in the crook of Jesse’s neck. Jesse responds by pressing his thigh to Hanzo’s groin, rubbing against him. Hanzo rolls his hips, pulls on Jesse’s shirt even tighter, to the point where Jesse’s starting to wonder if he’ll pull so hard it’ll rip at the seams.

Hearing the sound of a car engine behind him, Jesse looks over his shoulder and sees the limo. He looks back at Hanzo, his eyes are closed, before leaning back down, kissing the spot between his ear and jaw. “Ride’s here,” he whispers before biting down on his earlobe, eliciting another groan from Hanzo.

He pulls away from Hanzo, grabbing his hand and waiting till he opens his eyes. He looks at Jesse through heavy-lidded eyes, pushes off the wall and Jesse walks him up to the car, opening the door for him. Hanzo climbs in and Jesse’s just about to climb in when he hears the absolute biggest cockblocker in existence.

“Oh good! You are still here!”

Jesse closes his eyes, takes the moment to seethe before opening his eyes and turning, seeing Genji and Angela approach. “Yep,” he says with an _incredibly_ forced smile, “still here.”

“Good, cause we made the decision to head back to the hotel too.”

“Perfect,” Jesse breathes, glancing at Hanzo. He offers a sympathetic smile and a shrug, standing aside and letting Angie and Genji inside, before climbing inside himself. He takes a seat next to Hanzo, resting his hand on his inner thigh.

The car drives off and a thick, uncomfortable silence that’s just as heavy as the humidity outside hangs between them. Jesse looks at Hanzo who is shooting daggers at Genji, before just looking outside and watching the traffic flow past them.

“Okay,” Genji says finally, breaking the silence. “What did I do?”

Jesse looks at Hanzo, he looks about ready to explode from anger or potentially arousal, it’s hard to tell. In any case, whatever comes out of his mouth right now probably wouldn’t be good for Angie to hear, so Jesse decides to speak. “Just ‘cause you’re comin’ back with us now, it doesn’t mean we’re not gonna just go straight into Hanzo’s room and fuck.”

Genji screws his face before answering, “And why do you think we’re going back to the hotel? To play board games?”

“Don’t sass me,” Jesse retorts. “You cockblocked us already, you’re not about to do it again.”

“Ugh, please don’t tell me you were going to fuck in _here_.” Genji waves his hand around the cab.

“I was gonna give your brother the best—” Jesse looks from Genji to Hanzo, realising just how far he’s come. He looks back at Genji, his eyebrows are raised in anticipation of what follows that statement. He knows enough about Genji now, _knows_ that if he stops Genji will pester and pester until Jesse finishes his statement. His eyes flit to Angie's, her piercing blue eyes meet his. She raises an eyebrow, a prompt to continue. So he swallows down his pride, looks back at Genji and continues, “The best damn bj he’d ever received, actually.”

“Fuck…” Genji trails off, looking between Hanzo and Jesse for a good few seconds. Jesse braces himself for another round of berating, and is one hundred percent shocked when Genji instead says, “Sorry, Hanzo.”

“So we will not entertain you,” Hanzo says, surprisingly calmly, “and you will not bother us. I do not want to hear a single noise from you for the rest of the night.”

“I was going to put on music, is that okay?” Genji asks, timid and so completely unlike him. Whatever _this_ is, it’s so different from any reaction he’s seen. Maybe just a mutual understanding of what it’s like to have a good oral opportunity ruined.

Hanzo nods once. “Better for all of our sakes if we do not hear each other.”

That uncomfortable silence returns, and Jesse looks at Angela. She looks at him, confusion and potentially a little bit of regret in her eyes. He shrugs and offers a smile, hoping to convey a sense of reassurance that everything’ll be okay once they’re back at the hotel and not in each other’s hair.

It’s another minute before they’re back at the hotel, and that uncomfortable silence follows them inside, in the elevator and on the approach to the room. Once inside, Hanzo gives one last look to Genji, turns his attention to Angela, saying, “Nice to meet you,” before leaving for his room.

Jesse watches Hanzo disappear into his room, then back at Genji and Angela. “Have a good night. And Angie, enjoy the view,” he says looking at the closed blinds. He leaves the living room and heads towards Hanzo’s room, closing the door behind him and snipping the lock. Looking at the empty room, he frowns, looks on the balcony and doesn’t see Hanzo. He turns to face the adjoining bathroom and his breathing hitches, seeing Hanzo leaning against the door in nothing but his thong, which is doing absolutely nothing to keep his erection contained. If anything it looks downright uncomfortable.

“How about we get this off you,” Jesse says as he approaches Hanzo, slipping his fingers inside the waistband. Hanzo looks at him, doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even break eye contact. Jesse doesn’t either as he pulls it down, letting it go to drop to the floor before falling to his knees and sliding his hands back up to cup Hanzo’s ass.

He looks at Hanzo’s dick, leans in and runs his nose down the length, breathing deep. “You smell so fuckin’ good,” Jesse murmurs, pressing kisses up his shaft. He reaches the tip, licks his lips and kisses his glistening head before running the flat of his tongue along his slit, causing Hanzo to exhale noisily. “Taste just as good, too,” Jesse says, looking at Hanzo as he wraps his lips around the head. He encircles it with his tongue, then instead of bobbing up and down, pushes on Hanzo’s ass. Hanzo gets the hint, moans and rocks his hips, maintaining Jesse’s timing. Jesse pushes harder every few thrusts, pushing Hanzo further and further into his mouth until Hanzo’s dick is at the back of his throat and he’s swallowing around him.

Hanzo’s moaning _loud_ now, hand tangled in Jesse’s hair and he’s pulling back. The sound of music that’s way too loud blasts from the other side of the door and Jesse smiles as best he can with a dick in his mouth at the thought of Genji hearing Hanzo _again._ Though he’s dragged back to reality when the burn on his scalp borders on too painful, so he slides off Hanzo’s dick slowly and flicks his tongue over his frenulum for good measure, which barks another moan out of Hanzo.

“As much as I do not want this to end,” Hanzo says, almost breathless, “I want to come inside you more.”

Jesse smirks, presses one more kiss to Hanzo’s leaking slit before standing up. Hanzo cups his face, pulls him down for a passionate kiss, moaning and panting between breaths, between each sweep of his tongue. Hanzo’s hands slide down to Jesse’s shirt, and in a manner of mere seconds, his shirt is unbuttoned and Jesse’s shouldering it off, dropping it to the floor. Hanzo cups his pecs, gives them a good squeeze before dragging his hands down his torso and onto his trousers, unbuttoning and unzipping them before sliding them and his underwear down.

Jesse toes off his shoes, kicks away the mess of clothing and peels off his socks, all without breaking away from Hanzo. Jesse moans, practically jumps when Hanzo wraps his hand around his dick and pumps slowly.

“So sensitive,” Hanzo goads, increasing the speed of his tugging.

“Wasn’t expecting it,” Jesse admits, even though he has a moment where he thinks, he’s naked, of course it was coming. He ignores that when Hanzo chuckles, places his other hand on Jesse’s chest and walks him backwards to the bed. When the back of Jesse’s knees hit it, he sits down and Hanzo climbs onto his lap, takes both their cocks in his hand and pulls slowly.

Humming, Jesse rests his hands on Hanzo’s hips as Hanzo leans in for another kiss. This one is a little more tender, softer than the last, with careful little licks instead. The kiss recedes and Hanzo dots kisses along Jesse’s jaw to his neck, where he feels Hanzo’s tongue and teeth graze against it.

“As much as I want nothin’ more than for you to give me a hickey, it ain’t professional in my line of work, I can’t cover it up.”

Hanzo gives him one last kiss before pulling away. “Somewhere else, then.”

“Well, I ain’t ever gonna take off my shorts.” Jesse waggles his eyebrows.

Letting go of their cocks, Hanzo places a hand on Jesse’s chest, pushing him to lying down. Hanzo climbs off him and Jesse gets the hint to adjust, scooting back on the bed and lying with his head on the pillow.

Hanzo grabs the bottle of lube from the nightstand drawer and crouches down between Jesse’s legs. He holds the bottle in one hand and takes Jesse in the other, his grip firm as he tugs shallowly. He leans down, kissing high on Jesse’s inner thigh. His eyes flick to meet Jesse’s and Jesse nods in response, before the kisses turn into licks and sucks. Jesse can’t help the shiver that wracks his body as Hanzo bites the skin lightly, and it apparently caught Hanzo’s attention; he can feel his smirk on his thigh.

“Incredibly sensitive,” Hanzo teases, pulling away and looking at the red mark left behind quite proudly. He swipes his thumb over it and the skin prickles; that one’ll probably take over a week to fade. He then turns his attention to Jesse’s dick, licking from base to tip. Jesse shivers again at the velvety soft feeling of his tongue, and moans when he feels the wet heat of his mouth.  

Resisting the urge to place a hand on Hanzo’s head, Jesse instead rests it under his own, propping it up to get a better look at Hanzo. He watches as Hanzo bobs up and down, revelling in how his dick disappears then reappears with each sweep. Hanzo takes him further and further each time until he can feel himself at the back of Hanzo’s throat. He bites his lip, thinks about _not_ coming here and now, but cannot help the moan when Hanzo locks eyes with him.

“Fuck,” Jesse groans as Hanzo comes off his dick excruciatingly slowly with suction. He smirks as he pulls away, turning his attention back to the lube. Jesse takes himself in his hand and pulls slowly, using Hanzo’s spit as lubrication.

Hanzo flicks the cap of the lube and pours some on his fingers. The bottle is placed down before Hanzo grabs one of Jesse’s legs, lifts it up to rest it on his shoulder before pushing back on the other. Jesse lifts his hips as Hanzo massages his entrance with his lubed finger, biting his lip in anticipation.

He moans when he feels Hanzo push in, feeling the stretch of his finger. After a few languid penetrations, Jesse feels Hanzo’s second finger at his entrance, and moans again when that one is pushed in, savouring the initial burn.

The leg Hanzo is holding is also set to rest on his shoulder as Hanzo takes himself in his hand. He looks at Jesse’s cock and licks his lips, and Jesse’s breathing hitches as he aims his dick towards Hanzo. He leans down, but from this angle can’t get much more than the head in his mouth, not that Jesse really cares, the combining of the fingering and the blowjob from this angle is something he hasn’t experienced and that alone has Jesse about ready to come.

Jesse tugs in time with Hanzo’s scissoring and syncs up his breathing so he can fully relax. He savours Hanzo’s tongue swirling around his glans, the way he applies suction. With a hum and one last kiss, Hanzo pulls away and leans back; Jesse’s legs catch on his shoulders at the knees. He withdraws his fingers, grabs the condom off the bed and rolls it on before lubing up.

Hanzo scoots forward and Jesse lifts his hips again. He looks at Hanzo as he lines himself up, and meets his gaze as he pushes in. He lets out a long, low moan, grabs fistfuls of the duvet in a tight grip and only breathes in when Hanzo stops moving.

Jesse lets slip a louder moan when Hanzo leans down, which has him stopping his approach. “I’m fine,” Jesse breathes, “just been a while since I’ve done it in this position. This angle is…” Jesse chuckles, remembering Hanzo’s use of the word, “intense.”

Nodding, Hanzo leans down, kisses Jesse softly. He shifts his hands, taking Jesse’s hands in his; weaving their fingers together. “You will tell me if it is too much,” he whispers.

“Will do.”

Hanzo rolls his hips minutely, first grinding into Jesse before thrusting shallowly. He barely moves, Jesse finds himself punctuating each thrust with a little grunt, but otherwise remains silent. Hanzo hangs his head low, resting it on Jesse’s as he increases his pace, and for the first time moans himself.

Jesse tightens his grip on Hanzo’s hands, intent on never letting him go. He knows that this will probably be the last time they’ll have sex, and in less than twenty-four hours Hanzo will be on a plane back home. Jesse closes his eyes, does his best to push that thought away and enjoy Hanzo in this moment now. He also pushes away the music from the other side of the door to listen to his moans, to enjoy the feel of his dick massaging his prostate.

“Look at me.”

Opening his eyes, Jesse sees Hanzo looking down at him.

“I want to remember your face.”

Jesse smiles, and can feel the heat creep up to his cheeks. He doesn’t want to imagine what his o-face looks like, but totally understands, cause he too wants to look at Hanzo as he comes again and save that image in his mind like an old photograph in an album.

“I am close, Jesse,” Hanzo moans, a slight frown teasing his features. He shifts his weight to his left hand, takes back his right and grabs Jesse’s dick in a tight grip.

Moaning again, Jesse slaps his hand on Hanzo’s back, digs his fingers into the muscle. He tries not to close his eyes, to miss Hanzo coming, but as the pressure builds in his core he finds himself fighting it. His back arches as the tension snaps, he looks at Hanzo through heavy-lidded eyes and sees his comeshot hit Hanzo square in the chest.

Hanzo lets out a final moan before biting his lip, his eyes flutter as he leans his head back. Jesse digs his nails into Hanzo’s back, earning him a loud moan followed by Hanzo calling his name then something in Japanese. His thrusts finally stop, Hanzo hangs his head low as he breathes out in a long, slow steady stream.

Jesse slides his right leg down, and Hanzo relinquishes his iron grip on his hand and his dick so Jesse can get his left leg down, too. He keeps it bent at the knee as Hanzo practically falls on him, his clean fingers combing through his hair.

Chuckling, Hanzo kisses Jesse softly. Jesse cups Hanzo’s face, and as the kiss recedes, he slides his hands onto Hanzo’s back, holding him tight and keeping him close. He wants to tell Hanzo how he feels. How he can’t even think of him leaving the country without tearing up. But all he can think is how clingy he’ll sound, and he doesn’t wanna come across as smothering, to put a premature end to this romance.

Hanzo pulls up, kisses Jesse’s forehead before leaning back. His eyes sparkle, a subtle frown teases his features despite his efforts to hide it behind a smile. He then closes his eyes, takes a deep breath before his face turns serious suddenly and his eyes open.

“Jesse, I need to talk to you about something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish to extend another massive thanks to Magisey who helped me with the opening scene of this fic. It was a mess, to be honest, and it would not be the product we have if not for their patience with my word vomit. So thank you, my dude <3 <3 <3


	7. Long Distance

There have only been a few times in Jesse’s life when he has been genuinely scared. The first, the most defining moment in his life which he uses as a benchmark for fear, was the time his mamá woke him in the middle of the night and told him they needed to leave when he was eight. He rates that moment a ten on his fear scale.

There was the time his mamá told him they needed to move again, that it was not safe for them in New Mexico anymore. He was older, he understood what was happening, and was more annoyed than scared. But the fear was still there and he rates that moment a three on the scale.

Then there was the time he told his mamá that he wanted to move to Australia. He was nervous, still in two minds about the decision, caught between wanting to do his own thing in life and making sure his mamá was okay. When he sat her down at the kitchen table and looked into her eyes, that was when the fear really hit him. That moment, that was a seven on the scale.

And looking at Hanzo now, face serious and needing to discuss _something_ so pressing that they cannot enjoy what is likely going to be the last afterglow they’ll likely ever share? This moment is about a nine-and-a-half.

“Okay,” Jesse replies simply. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, trying to study Hanzo’s face for any tell about what mood he’s in, to gauge whether this will be a good talk or a bad talk. When he sees Hanzo’s lips quiver for a moment, he takes another breath and holds it. Realisation starts to set in that this is probably not going to be a good talk, and he braces himself for the worst.

But when it gives way to a smile, Jesse breathes a sigh of relief, chuckles and that fear all but melts away. “Fuck, you had me worried there for a second.”

Hanzo smiles wider, kisses Jesse’s lips softly. “I am usually able to remain stoic. You are the first person I have come across who has seen me unable to maintain a neutral face.”

“Another first,” Jesse smirks, waggling his eyebrows.

Hanzo hums, resting his chin on Jesse’s chest. “You are also the first with whom I have become emotionally invested.”

“Shit!” Jesse blurts out before he can stop it.

The look of surprise on Hanzo’s face is practically heartbreaking. He pulls away, saying, “I have misjudged—”

“No,” Jesse says quickly, stopping Hanzo in his tracks. “No, you haven’t misjudged anything, Han. I feel the same way.”

Hanzo visibly relaxes, settles back down and eases into a smile. “I like you, Jesse.”

Smiling, Jesse brings his hand up to Hanzo’s messy hair, running his fingers through his bangs before sweeping them behind his ear. “I like you too.” He pauses, brings his hand down to cup Hanzo’s face. “I’m actually a little bummed that you’re leaving tomorrow.”

“I do not want to,” Hanzo whispers, playing with a lock of Jesse’s hair.

“No chance you could extend your holiday?”

Hanzo shakes his head, sighing. “I must return home. I have an important meeting to attend the day after tomorrow.”

“That’s annoying,” Jesse chuckles. He caresses Hanzo’s cheek with his thumb. “Guess we’re gonna have to do long distance, then.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Hanzo breathes, smiling. “It will be difficult that you are on another continent, that I cannot have sex with you whenever I want.”

“Well there are other ways to have sex.”

“This is true. But I will no longer be able to do this.” Hanzo leans down, kissing Jesse’s chest. “Or this.” Hanzo pushes himself up a bit, pressing his lips to Jesse’s softly.

“God, I’m gonna miss you,” Jesse breathes, wrapping his arms around Hanzo tight.

“I will miss you too.”

They sit in a comfortable silence, but with each passing second Jesse becomes acutely aware of Hanzo’s weight on top of him, the pain in his hips and Hanzo’s cooling orgasm sandwiched between them.

“Okay, sweetness,” Jesse whispers, kissing Hanzo’s head. “I need you to get off me, you’re actually heavier than you look.”

Hanzo hums, looking at Jesse with a raised eyebrow. “You are lucky that muscle weighs more than fat, otherwise those would be your last words.”

“Thus ending what has to be the shortest romance in history.”

Hanzo smiles wide, lifts himself off Jesse’s chest and leans back. He pulls out, climbs off the bed and heads into the bathroom.

Jesse props himself up on his elbows and closes his legs, his thighs protesting from the sudden change in position. “Well, I’m gonna be sore in the morning,” he mutters as he hears Hanzo turn on one of the taps. A moment passes before he walks back in, two towels in hand. He hands them to Jesse, and he places the dry one between his legs and the wet one on his chest. “Thanks, gorgeous.”

“Is there any pet name you will not use?”

Smirking, Jesse wipes his chest clean and sits up, resting his arm on his raised knee. “Nup, don’t think so. You got any you don’t wanna be called?”

“I will let you know if one personally offends me.”

“Got it, darlin’.”

Hanzo exaggeratingly rolls his eyes in that way a boyfriend affectionately can, grabbing two bathrobes from the closet. “Put this on,” he says, tossing it to Jesse. He catches it before it hits him in the face. “The bathroom across the living room has a jacuzzi and a great view of the bridge.”

“Pretty fancy hotel to have a second bathroom with a jacuzzi,” Jesse smirks, standing up. He wipes himself clean and tosses the towels into the bathroom before sliding on the robe.

“It also has a sauna,” Hanzo says with a wink as he opens the bedroom door.

“A what now?” Jesse asks, standing in the bedroom alone in pure bewilderment. He stands in the doorway, watching Hanzo enter another room on the other side of the living space. He does a quick search of the living area in case Genji and Angie are having at it on the couches, and only once the coast is clear, he chases after Hanzo, asking, “Han? Did you just say sauna?!”

* * *

Jesse’s eyes flutter open and he takes in his surrounds. He looks in the usual place where he keeps his clock, but doesn’t see it. Frowning, he looks around the dimly lit room, from the drawn blinds with light filtering through at the edges, to the sound of Hanzo breathing deep beside him. He turns onto his side, cuddling up to Hanzo and draping an arm over him, holding him close.

He closes his eyes, breathes in the faint smell of coconut from the oil they added to the jacuzzi last night and relaxes. He thinks about Hanzo: how his smile makes him smile, how good he is to kiss, his smell, the sound of his laugh. Squeezing his eyes shut tighter, he presses his forehead to Hanzo’s back, holds him that little bit tighter and just enjoys this moment.

“Good morning,” Hanzo mumbles.

“Mornin’ sweetpea. I hope I didn’t wake you?”

“No.” Hanzo looks over his shoulder and Jesse pulls his arm away so Hanzo can roll onto his back. Smiling, Hanzo looks at Jesse, a small smile on his face. “What time do you start work today?”

“Nine. Got plenty of time to cuddle and have breakfast before headin’ in.”

“Good,” Hanzo breathes, reaching out and cupping Jesse’s face. “I think I might spend the remainder of my time here on the beach. I wish to work on the tan on the front of my body.”

Jesse can’t contain the grin that bursts from his lips. “Please tell me you’re gonna wear your tiny blue thong.”

“What else would I wear?”

Groaning, Jesse shuffles forward, resting his head on Hanzo’s shoulder. “I ain’t gonna be able to keep my eyes off of you.”

“Neither will I if you choose to walk around without a shirt again.”

Jesse hums, looking at Hanzo as he rests his head back on the pillow. “That so?”

“Perhaps you have not noticed, but your shorts sit quite low on your hips.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” Jesse says, with a wink. To say it wasn’t intentional would be a lie.

“It is an attractive look.” Hanzo arches an eyebrow, shifts his hand under the covers to Jesse’s abdomen. Jesse sucks in a breath in anticipation. “The way it shows off the slightest hint of this muscle,” his hand slides down, resting just above his groin, “is intoxicating.”

“Well thank you for noticin’,” Jesse says, wetting his lips. “Not that I intentionally sought to get an Apollo’s belt, it came with the job.”

“I assume the rat man—”

Jesse snorts. “‘The rat man?’”

“The rat man,” Hanzo repeats, not skipping a beat. “I assume he has been doing his job longer than you? He does not have one nearly as impressive.”

“Just got good genes, I guess.”

Hanzo flashes a devilish smirk. “Very good genes.” He leans in, kisses Jesse on the lips before pulling away. “I do not know about you,” he whispers, “but I would prefer we have breakfast absent Genji.”

“Sounds like a mighty fine plan.”

Winking, Hanzo climbs out of bed, and Jesse takes the moment to appreciate the man walking buck naked into the bathroom, eyeing the tan line on ass. He rolls onto his back and smiles, not believing his luck that the hottest guy he’s ever come across is now his boyfriend, _and_ that he wasn’t off-putted by his blonde hair. With a smile, he rolls onto his other side, grabs his phone off the nightstand and smiles wider at the notification telling him he has ten text messages and a voice message from his mamá.

Practically leaping out of bed, he slips on the bathrobe he dropped to the floor last night and calls out to Hanzo, “Han, I’m just gonna give my mamá a call.”

“Okay.”

He’s got the phone pressed to his ear before he even draws the blinds to the balcony, and practically melts the second he hears his mamá’s voice.

* * *

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

Jesse takes his water bottle out of his bag, holding onto it as he stuffs the bag into his locker and closes the door.

_Four._

_Five._

_Six._

Jesse climbs the stairs to the lifeguard tower.

_Seven._

_Eight._

“Cowboy!”

Jesse can’t help but grin as he takes the step over the threshold of the tower. Didn’t even make it to ten seconds before Junkrat jumped him. “Junkrat.”

Practically bouncing by Jesse’s side, Junkrat asks, “So c’mon, spill the beans! Best birthday ever?”

“Was pretty great, actually.” Jesse walks into the kitchen, placing his bottle of water in the fridge.

“What did you do? Let me know, I want _all_ the sordid details!” he giggles.

Closing the door, Jesse leans against the bench, folding his arms over his chest. He thinks about bragging, about announcing to the world that he has a boyfriend, and looking at Junkrat’s eager face, he decides he’ll do just that. “We had champagne, coffee and cake for breakfast, went to the mall for lunch, ordered room service for dinner then went out for drinks.”

“Anything _else_ ? _”_ Junkrat asks, waggling his eyebrows. “Was the sex good?”

“Better than good. So good, in fact, that we didn’t stop at just once.”

Cheering, Junkrat grabs Jesse’s shoulder and shakes him. “How many times?”

“Four.”

Junkrat’s jaw hangs open. “You’re pullin’ my leg.”

“Nope.”

“Just the other day you wouldn’t tell me _anything_ about the two of ya, and now you’re happy to just tell me _you fucked him four times?!”_

“Well… I didn’t fuck him _every_ time,” Jesse smirks.

Junkrat throws his hands up in the air. “Pig’s arse! You’re havin’ me on and I ain’t buyin’ it.” And with that, he turns his attention back to the beach with a huff. Jesse chuckles; if it was this easy to get Junkrat off his back, he would have said so after his first night with Hanzo.

“I can see your _boyfriend_ out there,” Junkrat says, looking through the binoculars.

“Yep, we arrived together. He’s gonna get in a bit more sunbathing before he leaves in the afternoon.” Jesse takes the binoculars as Junkrat hands them to him, looking through and watching Hanzo apply the coconut oil to his chest. He internally groans; he should have taken Hanzo up on the offer to put it on before entering the tower. It’s not like the beach is crowded. Though he supposes that Junkrat might have caught that, and he’d never let him live that down.

He sees Hanzo side-eye the lifeguard tower as he applies the oil to his pectoral. And now his cryptic “Go do your job” line makes sense. He knew that Jesse would be watching from the tower. And the fucking tease he is, cupping his pectoral, massaging it… fucking pinching his nipple. Hanzo looks at the tower with a smirk, puckers his lips into a kiss before moving onto the other pectoral.

“Bit of a tease, isn’t he.”

Jesse does a double-take, looking at Junkrat who is also looking at Hanzo through a pair of binoculars.

“I can see why you jumped him. He’s not my type and _I_ wanna jump him.”

Choosing to ignore Junkrat, Jesse just looks back at Hanzo as he works on his stomach. At least now he seems to not be teasing—oh _wait_ he just slipped his finger inside the band of his thong. As much as Jesse wishes he were there right now, that it were his fingers on the inside of the thong, he does have to say that watching Hanzo is a turn-on. He swallows the lump in his throat and ignores his swelling dick as Hanzo starts to oil up his thighs, sideways glancing at Junkrat who is now at least looking at another section of beach. When Hanzo is done, he places the bottle back into the bag, slides on his sunglasses and lies flat, and Jesse’s mouth runs dry at the sight of Hanzo with a very clear semi. And the shit knows it too, if the grin on his face is anything to go by.

Pulling the binoculars down, he plucks his phone from his pocket and texts Hanzo.

_ >>You tease. _

Placing his phone on the console, he picks up the binoculars and watches Hanzo again. Hanzo grabs his phone from the bag, smile growing into a laugh as he types up a reply. He looks at the lifeguard tower as Jesse’s phone pings, and he looks at the message:

**Hanzo  
** _> >You should be doing your job._

Jesse shakes his head, rolls his eyes and scans the beach from right to left. It seems people are a bit cautious today, no one’s in the water given the rough surf, and there are only a handful of people on the beach at best.

Jesse picks up his phone again, types up a reply.

>> _I am, but right now you’re the most interesting thing on this beach, pumpkin._

He smirks when he can practically see Hanzo’s eyeroll as he reads the message, and eases into a smile when Hanzo looks at the lifeguard tower, lowering his glasses with one hand, offering a small wave with the other.

Jesse waves back, not that Hanzo would be able to see it, and silently chuckles to himself as Hanzo settles back down. Jesse takes a seat at the console, glancing at the weather alert on the holounit. “Dangerous surf again today,” he breathes, looking at the warning list almost every beach along the New South Wales coast. “Another quiet day?”

“Yeah, probably,” Junkrat sighs, taking a seat himself. “Not the best weather for sunbaking either, but apparently it doesn’t stop people.” He gestures to Hanzo’s direction with a wave of his hand.

“It’s winter in Japan at the moment, so you can’t really blame him.” Jesse glances at Hanzo absent the binoculars, this far away he’s practically a tiny dot on a sea of white.

“Should get him to watch your sun safety video.”

“Yeah, no,” Jesse chuckles. He watches as Junkrat sits up quickly, grabs his binoculars and looks at the eastern part of the beach. “Might have a wander down where those people are. They’re only knee-deep right now but the last thing we need is a wave knocking them on their arses and carryin’ ‘em away.” He puts the binoculars down. “You’ll have to stay here, man the tower while Roadie’s out.”

“Got it.”

“Keep an eye on ‘em and let me know if the situation worsens.”

“Will do.”

“And don’t spend _all_ that time checking out your _boyfriend_ ,” Junkrat says with a wink.

“I won’t,” Jesse grumbles, watching as Junkrat jogs to the stairs. When he’s gone from view, Jesse sighs, slumps in his seat before picking up the binoculars and scanning the section of beach with the people in the water. A family, three generations by the look of them, kids not too young which is probably a good thing. They seemed to have noticed the unforgiving nature of the surf and have moved in a little closer to the shore, they’re ankle deep now. Jesse sees the buggy enter his field of vision and follows it, Junkrat parks it not too far away but seems to keep his distance, just watching and waiting.

With a nod, Jesse scans the rest of the beach, watching the two of people in the water between the flags, then the two other lifeguards manning that section of beach before moving on and looking at Hanzo. He holds his gaze for a while, looking at his perfect body. It’ll probably be the last time he sees Hanzo’s body in real life, his last opportunity to touch him has probably come and gone. Not unless he’s up for a cheeky quick handy or bj. He definitely should have taken the opportunity to oil him up one last time. Maybe even taken the day off, spent it in bed ‘til checkout just cuddling and talking.

Chewing his bottom lip, he grabs his phone and checks the time difference between Sydney and Tokyo. “Two hours,” Jesse breathes, placing it back on the console. “Not too bad, means we can stay up all night talkin’.”

“Sleep is required, too.”

Jesse looks at Roadie as he enters the tower, take out coffees in reusable mugs in a tray in one hand and a paper bag in the other. He sets them down on the table behind Jesse before standing behind him, looking out.

“Anything to report?”

“Junkrat’s keepin’ an eye on a family in the water outside the flags, otherwise everything’s as it should be.”

Roadie nods, walks back to the table and grabs two coffees and the bag before taking a seat next to Jesse. He places one cup down. “Mocha.”

“Thanks, boss,” Jesse says, picking up the cup and cradling it close to his chest. He turns in his seat, looking out in Hanzo’s direction again. There’s a stretch of silence, not that Jesse really notices it beyond the scrunch of the paper bag being opened. His thoughts go back to Hanzo, to how much he’ll miss him, his touch, his kisses.

“All right, I’ll bite,” Roadie starts, voice gentle. “Why are you going to be up all night?”

Jesse looks at Roadie, offers a smile. “It’s Hanzo.”

A look of realisation crosses Roadie’s face. “Ah, young love.”

“Love’s a bold word,” Jesse says sheepishly, hiding his smile behind his coffee.

“I can see you’re distracted. You’re physically here, mentally, you’re not.”

“He leaves for Japan today.”

Roadie nods slowly, takes a bite out of the chocolate chip muffin.

“Gonna try long distance. Japan’s only two hours behind, so we’re not too far off.”

“Goes down to one hour when we’re off daylight savings time.”

“Even better,” Jesse breathes, looking at Hanzo again.

“Have you told him how you feel?”

“Well yeah, told him I like him.”

“Just like?”

“I said I liked him a lot.”

Roadie looks at him, hums like he’s unconvinced before taking another bite of the muffin. Jesse frowns, turns away and picks up the binoculars to scan the beach for anything out of the ordinary. He does his best to scan over Hanzo, even though he does hold steady for a moment. When he sees nothing alarming, he sets the binoculars down, takes a sip of his coffee and refuses to think about what Roadie is even implying—

“Have you ever been in love, Jesse?”

Jesse closes his eyes and sets his mug down slowly. Just as slowly, he turns to Roadie, answering, “Can’t say I have,” like the damn embarrassment it is. He sighs, looking at the black lid of his coffee cup. “Was too busy working to find someone.”

“So no partner either?”

Jesse shakes his head. It’s something he’s always wanted, though. In his mind, his perfect life includes a job he doesn’t call a job ‘cause he loves it too much, something he can tick off the list, and a boyfriend to come home to at night. Someone who will listen to his stories, someone he can cook dinner for, share a drink with. _That_ is what he wants.

...And that is something he cannot have with Hanzo.

“I see,” Roadie says with another one of those slow nods. “Well, it’s very obvious you like him.”

“Am I really that easy to read?” Jesse huffs, slinking down further into his seat.

“You’ve spent more time looking at him than at me in the five minutes I’ve been up here.”

Flashing a cocky grin, Jesse says, “Well between you and the man who’s my boyfriend…”

Roadie chuckles, leans back in his seat and takes a sip of his coffee. “So long distance?”

“Yeah, I know, everyone who’s done it says it’s a bitch,” Jesse retorts, getting defensive.

“And it probably—”

“Won’t work, I know,” Jesse huffs again. He looks at Roadie. “I just can’t say goodbye, you know? It might not work, we might just end up friends, who knows?” He keeps the thought of living a long and happy life together to himself. “But he goes home in a couple of hours and I want it to be a ‘see you later’, not ‘goodbye’.”

“I was going to say it probably wouldn’t be easy,” Roadie says, voice gentler still. “You’re passionate, Jesse, anyone tell you that?”

Jesse takes a breath and eases into a smile. “My mamá, all the time.”

“It’s a good quality to have.” Roadie takes a sip of his coffee. “I shouldn’t be surprised, you put your heart and soul into your work, it makes sense it’d apply to your personal life, too.”

Absolutely bashful, Jesse looks down at his coffee again, thumbing over the picture of the Opera House on his mug. He chuckles to himself, looks back at Roadie and asks, “So you reckon we can make it work?”

“Jesse, if there’s anyone out there that can make a long distance relationship work, it’s you. You moved halfway around the world for work, long distance will be a piece of cake.” And with that, Roadie stuffs the last of his muffin in his mouth, stands up, throws the bag in the trash and heads to the sink.

Jesse smiles at Roadie’s words which are still echoing in his mind. He supposes that while Hanzo may not be physically here, it doesn’t mean they can’t put on a movie at the same time and watch it together. Or have lunch or dinner or a drink together. He’ll be an ear for Hanzo, and he knows that Hanzo will be there for him too.

Finishing the last of his coffee, Jesse scans the beach for anyone who looks like they’re in trouble while he waits for Roadie to sit back down. He settles on Hanzo again, he’s got one leg bent at the knee, arms out to his side and hands palm-up. He briefly wonders if Hanzo is hiding a semi, if maybe that semi he had from earlier still hasn’t gone down. But before he can let his mind wander any more than it has, Roadie takes a seat next to him and he quickly scans the rest of the beach before washing his own mug.

“Once you’re done, join Junkrat on the beach and start a patrol.”

“Got it, boss.” Jesse silently chuckles; excitement ripples through him at the thought of eyeing off Hanzo on the beach with his own two eyes, instead of through the damn binoculars.

* * *

Jesse’s head rolls back, hitting the wall behind him. He brings a fist up to his mouth, bites down on his finger to keep from making any noise. The other tangles in Hanzo’s hair, guiding his movements as he slides up and down on his dick.

Angie would probably kill him with her own bare hands if she knew he was having another round of bathroom sex. But there was no stopping him after spending the morning watching Hanzo, the thought of knowing that Hanzo was watching him every time he walked past. When the sun finally broke through a gap in the clouds, Jesse took off the rash guard and took great fucking pleasure in the way Hanzo _gaped_ at him, sunglasses lowered and jaw hung.

That was probably the whole reason why they’re here, now. After catching up with Genji and having a quick lunch, Hanzo kept his hand on Jesse’s inner thigh the entire time, the tease even brushed his fingers against his dick occasionally. But when Hanzo slid his hand up to his crotch, waggled his eyebrows _and_ winked, there was no stopping them. Not the crowded lunchtime rush, not Genji’s very loud groan.

Hanzo hums, comes off his dick with a slurp and wraps his hand around Jesse’s dick, using his spit as lubrication. “I had thought about packing lube in my bag, but did not.”

“S’all right, can return the favour when I’m done.”

With a wink, Hanzo kisses the tip of Jesse’s dick, takes him in his mouth again. Jesse moans, cuts it off short once he realises how loud he _actually_ was by shutting his mouth, causing his teeth to _clack_ hard and painfully. He looks at Hanzo who’s looking at him, frown on his face and his dick halfway in his mouth, and just about comes there and then. He catches his hip jerk, easing into more of a roll and he places his hand on Hanzo’s head again.

“I’m so fuckin’ close, Han,” Jesse breathes, closing his eyes. He focuses on each sweep of Hanzo’s tongue on the underside of his dick, the slide of his mouth and the grip around the base. Each movement, each suck and pull sends adrenaline pumping through his veins, the heat in his core ready to explode. “Han, I’m there…” he moans as he grabs the fistful of Hanzo’s hair tight. He feels Hanzo jerk slightly as he comes, and after a moment, the grip around the base loosens and Hanzo comes off slowly with another slurp. Jesse opens his eyes in time to see him wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, slight frown on his face.

Loosening the grip on Hanzo’s hair, Jesse slides his hand down to the back of his head and pulls him to standing. He leans down to meet his height, kissing him and tasting himself on Hanzo’s tongue. Turning them both, Jesse sits down on the toilet, winks as he pulls down Hanzo’s already open jeans, taking his cock in his hand. Hanzo places both hands on Jesse’s shoulders, hangs his head low.

“This will not take long,” Hanzo groans, and Jesse chuckles, licks his slit with the flat of his tongue. Jesse feels Hanzo quiver, taking him in his mouth, encircling the glans with his tongue before bobbing up and down. When Hanzo rolls his hips, Jesse places his hands on Hanzo’s ass, encouraging him. A moan from Hanzo, and he’s fucking Jesse’s mouth with a slow, small roll of his hips.

He feels Hanzo reaching his limit before he announces it when the grip on his shoulder tightens, fingernails digging into his skin. Jesse breathes in through his nose, relaxes and pushes forward, his nose presses hard against the muscles of Hanzo’s lower abdomen.

Hanzo’s hand flies to the back of Jesse’s head, keeps him in place. “Fuck, Jesse,” he moans as Jesse feels the twitch from his dick. He swallows, and when Hanzo’s hand loosens, Jesse pulls back, swallows instinctively as more come touches his tongue. He looks at Hanzo as he slides off, who’s looking at him through heavy-lidded eyes. Hanzo smirks, swipes Jesse’s bottom lip with his thumb and when he pulls away, Jesse can see the white dollop. He grabs Hanzo’s wrist, pulls his hand towards his mouth and sucks on his thumb, winking when Hanzo’s eyes go wide.

“It is going to be impossible to leave,” Hanzo says, cupping Jesse’s face and bending down to kiss him slowly.

“Gonna miss you somethin’ shocking,” Jesse whispers between kisses. Hanzo climbs into his lap, holds him in a tight embrace. Jesse rests his head on Hanzo’s shoulder, breathing in the last, lingering hints of coconut on his skin.

With a reluctant sigh, a tighter squeeze, Hanzo pulls away, kissing Jesse’s forehead. “We should relieve Genji of his post.”

“It ain’t like we make him stand outside and shoo people away.”

Hanzo climbs off Jesse, tucks himself back into his jeans and zips them up. He hands Jesse his rash guard, which was hanging on the hook on the back of the door, and Jesse slides it on. With a long, lingering stare and another reluctant sigh, Hanzo opens the stall. Jesse follows behind, thankful that the bathroom is empty and he settles on Genji once they’re outside.

“At least you were quiet this time,” Genji says, absolutely not impressed as he pushes himself off the wall and stuffs his phone back into his pocket. “Quick, too,” he says with a sly grin, looking Jesse up and down. Jesse just rolls his eyes, takes Hanzo’s hand and follows him outside.

The midday sun is warm, a sobering reminder that he needs to go back to work. He eyes the beach from the entrance of the pavilion, it’s starting to get busy. Then, an Audi pulls up and Hanzo turns to him, holds him tight.

The realisation sets in and Jesse closes his eyes, holds Hanzo just as tight. “Don’t forget me,” he whispers.

“That would be hard. I will text you every night.”

“Lookin’ forward to it.”

They separate, but Jesse refuses to let go of Hanzo yet, draping his arm over his shoulders and tucking him under his arm. He extends his hand to Genji, who just like on the beach on that first day, looks at Jesse’s hand and holds his own close to his chest. “Really? After all this?”

“Not only have you touched Hanzo’s ass with that hand, you’ve probably touched his dick with it, probably even shoved those fingers _up_ his ass.” He instead salutes, winks. “It’s been fun, hobo. You made this holiday better than I thought possible.” With that, he approaches the waiting car and hops in.

Jesse just rolls his eyes and turns to Hanzo. “Your brother is such a child.”

“He is,” Hanzo grumbles. He turns to face Jesse, and with a final chaste kiss and another hug, Hanzo whispers, “Thank you for everything. I really did enjoy my time here, and I am happy I got to spend it with you.”

“Me too, sweetness.”

Hanzo looks up at him, a little teary-eyed even though he tries to hide it behind a smile. “See you around, Jesse.”

Pressing his lips to Hanzo’s forehead, Jesse replies, “See you, Hanzo.”

And with that, Hanzo steps away from Jesse and into the car. Jesse watches as Hanzo drives away, a little saddened that he won’t see him for who-knows-how-long, but excited to know that he will be at Jesse’s fingertips, that video chatting is a very common thing and that this long distance relationship will work.

When Hanzo’s car turns at the intersection, Jesse sighs and heads back to the lifeguard tower. His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he smiles when he sees it’s a text from Hanzo:

**> >Hanzo  
**_> >Miss you already _❤️

Jesse smiles, types up his simple reply.

_ >>miss you too _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it, folks!! This fic has been six months in the making, and I'm a little saddened it's all over! I can't believe all the love this silly little fic has received, and I want to thank each and every one of you who read this, who kudos'd, commented, liked and reblogged my snippets on the tumbls. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, truly!!
> 
> I also want to extend another massive thanks to Magisey for betaing, for putting up with my worries, my concerns, my anxiety, my random screaming and egging me on with fic ideas <3
> 
> So where to from here? I've got a few one-shots I'm going to post sometime soon, I'm working on another long fic, the promised continuation (read: prequel) to my Supernatural AU fic ['A Japanese Demon in America'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12490252/chapters/28432672) which I'm hoping to have out in the next couple of months. I'm also thinking of creating this expanded canon-universe which does include one of my current fics and another long fic I've been working on on-and-off for almost a year now. A couple of the one-shots I'm planning will be part of that universe too, and I'm kind of excited to create a series with existing characters. 
> 
> But in the meantime, I'll be over on Tumblr, sharing random snippets from upcoming wips. So until the next fic goes up, peace!!  
> \--ChillieBean <3

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Tumblr](https://chilliebean5.tumblr.com/) where I occasionally post snippets of my wips, and I'll be posting snippets preceding each chapter as they're released! Come say hi!


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